l)[  I 


LIBRARY 


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University  of  California. 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALS WORTH. 

Received  October,  1894. 
t/lccessions  No.Syi^CQ.     '-■^'^^  ^^• 


'd^^iit^t/x^^j^,  ^/H&^rrif^i^ 


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DOMESTIC  PORTRAITURE 


AND 


1  TRACTS. 

« 

^  Kbv.    LEGH    RICHMOND. 


Thott  shalt  teach  them  diligently  unto  thy  children,  and  shalt  talk  of  them 
when  thou  sittest  in  thy  house,  and  -when  thou  walkest  by  the  way,  and  when 
thou  liest  down,  and  when  thou  risest  up.— Deut.  vi.  8. 

He  blessed  tne  habitation  of  the  just.— Prov.  iii.  33. 


This  we  ought  to  be  constantly  intent  upon,  as  the  business  of  our  lives  — 
our  daily  work  —  to  get  our  spirits  so  attempered  and  fitted  to  heaven,  that  if 
we  be  asked  what  design  we  drive  at,  what  we  are  doing,  we  may  be  able  to 
make  a  true  answer.     We  are  dressing  ourselves  far  eternity.^  Howe. 


[T7FI7B11SIT7] 


<:'^A^(/'/ty?/?/my/ 


DOMESTIC    PORTRAITURE; 


OR,  THE  SUCCESSFUL  APPLICATION  OF 
RELIGIOUS  PRINCIPLE  IN  THE  EDUCATION  OF  A  FAMILY: 


EXEMPLIFIED   IN   THE   MEMOIRS 
OF    THREE    OF    THE    DECEASED    CHILDRElf    OF 

THE  KEY.  LEGH  RICHMOND. 


p77i-/f:^7J 


WITH  INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS, 

BY  THE  REV.  E.  BICKERSTETH, 

RECTOR  OF  WATTON,   HERTS. 


iFrom  the  Seljentft  aontron  SStrftion. 
"  oar  XHi^* 

'\IIIT»B.STT7! 


NEW  YORK: 

PROTESTANT  EPISCOPAL  SOCIETY  FOR  THE  PROMOTION  OP 

EVANGELICAL  KNOWLEDGE. 

No.    11  Bible  House,  Astor  Place. 

1859. 


S'yV-06 


INTRODUCTION, 


The  republication  of  the  "Domestic  Porteaiture" 
has  been  considered  a  favourable  opportunity  for  prefix- 
ing a  few  remarks  on  Christian  education,  a  most  impor 
tant  part  of  every  parent's  duty,  and  the  root  of  innumur- 
able  future  blessings.  In  doing  this,  the  writer  hopes,  in 
some  measure,  to  concentrate  within  a  short  compass,  the 
many  truly  valuable  exhortations  and  pressing  entreaties 
to  his  children,  by  Ms  revered  and  beloved  friend,  Mr. 
Richmond,  which  this  volume  contains. 

It  is  common  to  hear  complaints,  that  the  children  of 
pious  parents  disappoint  the  expectations  which  are 
usually,  and  not  unnaturally  formed ;  and  it  is  true  that 
this  is  too  often  the  case ;  and  that  in  some  instances 
children  piously  educated,  will,  when  they  break  through 
the  restraints  of  education  and  habit,  become  excessively 
wicked :  and  they  may,  even  like  Eli's  and  David's 
children,  perish  in  their  wickedness.  In  these  extreme 
cases,  there  has  probably  been  either  some  serious  neg- 
lect of  parental  duty,  or  the  formation  of  unhappy  con- 
nexions with  others :  at  least,  every  Christian  parent 
is  dumb  before  God  under  such  awful  dispensations,  and 
is  feelingly  alive  to  the  conviction  of  his  own  sinfulness. 

But,  after  all,  the  mass  of  Christian  piety  in  a  country 

will  be  found  to  be  in  the  generation  of  the  pious  ;  and 

though  God  shows  his  own  sovereignty  in  sometimes 

raising  up  an  eminent  instrument  of  good  from  among 

1* 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

the  most  wicked,  lie  also  shows  the  riches  and  the  faith 
fulness  of  his  own  promises :  The  generation  of  the  wp 
right  is  blessed:  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go, 
and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it. 

It  may  be  used  briefly  to  notice  some  causes  of  want 
of  success,  and  also  to  touch  upon  the  means  of  a  suc- 
cessful Christian  education. 

In  considering  the  causes  of  want  of  success,  we  must 
first  notice  the  disregard  of  one  of  the  most  important 
religious  principles,  a  due  knowledge  of  which  lies  at 
the  root  of  all  success  in  this  work — that  all  children 
are  by  nature  born  in  sin,  and  the  children  of  wrath ; 
that  .they  inherit  from  their  parents  a  carnal  mind, 
which  is  enmity  against  God.  However  pious  the  parent, 
his  nature  is  corrupt,  and  descends  to  his  children. 
From  us  they  derive  that  nature,  and  all  success  in 
education  must  be  owing  to  God's  blessing  our  efforts, 
and  giving  them  his  grace,  that  they  may  gain  dominion 
over  their  natural  and  inbred  corruption.  The  Christian 
parent  will  ever  be  watchful  to  detect  the  workings  of 
this  corruption,  even  in  those  things  which  may  appear 
to  the  eye  of  the  world  pleasing  and  delightful.  That 
alone  which,  is  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit — that  alone  which 
is  superior  to  nature,  will  satisfy  him.  "Whilst  he  will 
forward  and  cultivate  whatever  is  lovely  and  of  good 
report,  he  will  be,  above  all,  anxious,  that  everything  of 
this  kind  should  proceed  from  Christian  principle,  and 
not  from  the  mere  love  of  human  praise. 

The  indulgence  of  parents,  proceeding  from  an  idolatry 
of  their  children,  is  one  of  the  most  common  sources  of 
ill-success.  This  was  the  ruin  of  Eli's  and  of  David's 
children,  and  it  is  a  cause  which  is  constantly  operating 
in  a  vast  variety  of  forms ;  such  as  indulgence  in  appe- 
tite, in  dress,  in  pleasures,  in  yielding  to  any  obviously 
improper  requests,  and  in  seeking  rather  to  gratify  their 


I  NT  RODUCTION.  VU 

present  wislies,  ttian  to  secure  their  future,  their  spirit- 
ual, and  their  highest  good. 

The  inconsistencies  of  Christian  parents  in  their  con- 
duct and  conversation,  have  a  most  pernicious  influence 
over  their  children.  The  spirit  of  the  world,  the  lust  of 
the  flesh,  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  ^jf  life,  manifested 
by  a  parent,  are  eagerly  and  most  naturally  imbibed 
by  children.  They  are  creatures  of  imitation  in  all 
things;  but  they  have  a  natural  aptitude  in  imitating 
whatever  is  wrong.  The  bad  tempers,  the  haughtiness, 
the  self-will  of  the  parents  are  very  soon  indeed  copied 
by  the  child.  Their  admiration  of  riches,  or  rank,  or 
talent,  naturally  engenders  similar  inordinate  views  and 
feeling  in  their  children.  Thus  our  sins  punish  us  in 
our  offspring. 

Improper  connexions  which  children  are  allowed  to 
form  with  others,  whether  of  a  similar,  or  of  a  superior 
age,  but  especially  of  the  latter, —  often  ruin  the  best 
laid  plans  for  education.  Children  are  so  soon  capti- 
vated by  delusive  and  specious  appearances  of  superior 
wisdom,  leading  them  to  despise  others,  and  by  the  vain 
promises  of  liberty  and  pleasure ;  that  one  evening  spent 
amidst  the  fascinations  of  worldly  society,  may  unsettle 
and  permanently  injure  their  young  and  inexperienced 
minds. 

Amid  the  common  complaints  of  want  of  success  in 
the  bringing  up  of  children,  complaints  which  are  often 
heard  from  Christian  parents, — it  is  pleasant  to  contem- 
plate those  instances  which  sometimes  occur,  as  in  the 
families  of  Mr.  Kichmond,  Mr.  Scott,  and  others  which 
might  be  named,  where  results  more  gratifying  have 
been  realized. 

The  inquiry  is  most  interesting,  and  most  important. 
Thence  arises  this  difference  ? 

A  customary  resource  for  consolation,  and  almost  for 


VIU  INTEODUCTIOK. 

justification,  in  cases  of  an  unhappy  description^  is  the 
doctrine  of  the  sovereignty  of  God. 

Often,  however,  this  great  and  awful  doctrine  is 
brought  in  as  a  cover  to  parental  neglect,  when  it  would 
be  just  as  reasonable  to  assign  it  as  an  excuse  for  expo- 
sing your  child  to  a  pestilence,  or  for  leaving  him,  in 
sickness,  without  medical  aid. 

The  cases  above  alluded  to,  and  others  quite  nume- 
rous enough  to  form  a  rule,  and  not  an  exception,  show 
that  when  certain  means  are  used,  the  answering  results 
may  be  expected  to  follow ;  and  that  the  failure  of  the 
parent's  hopes,  may  generally  be  traced  to  their  own 
deficiency  in  conduct. 

In  speaking  however  of  means, —  a  word  perhaps  in- 
adequate,— it  is  desirable  to  use  that  word  in  its  utmost 
extent :  to  look  upon  it  not  merely  as  comprehending  a 
certain  routine  of  duties,  but  as  embracing  the  whole 
obligation  of  the  parent  to  the  child. 

And  the  first  and  main  obligation  is  Love,  It  is  to 
be  feared  that  the  real  root  of  the  mischief  of  which  we 
are  speaking,  little  as  it  may  be  suspected,  lies  in  a 
deficiency  here. 

Parents  ascribe  the  loss  of  their  children  to  God's  not 
having  willed  otherwise ;  when,  perhaps,  it  would  be 
much  nearer  the  truth  to  say,  that  they  themselves  have 
not  willed  otherwise. 

They  are  wanting  in  a  deep  sense  of  the  real  worth 
and  danger  of  their  children's  souls.  They  wish  and 
hope  that  they  may  be  serious,  good  and  religious ;  but 
it  is  a  sort  of  faint,  ineffectual  wish  ;  not  that  ardent  de- 
sire, that  unceasing  anxiety  which  filled  Mr.  Eichmond's 
mind ;  not  that  love  which  made  St.  Paul  exclaim,  "My 
little  children,  of  whom  I  travail  in  birth  again,  till 
Christ  be  formed  in  you." 

Prom  these  feeble  hopes  and  languid  wishes,  flow 
cold  and  formal  prayers,  offered  as  a  duty, — not  as  the 


I  N  T  K  O  D  U  C  T  I  O  N.  Hi 

inmost  desire  of  tlae  soul.  There  is  no  wrestling  for  the 
-children,  with  the  "  I  will  not  let  thee  go  except  thou 
bless  me,"  of  Augustine's  mother.  Kor  are  these  the 
prayers  of  faith ;  nor  can  they  be  expected  to  bring 
down  blessings :  since  the  promise  is,  "  Whatsoever  ye 
shall  ask,  believing,  ye  shall  receive."  They  are  often 
offered  up  from  a  mere  sense  of  duty,  without  any  ex- 
pectation, and  almost  without  any  sincere  desire,  that 
they  should  be  answered.  With  such  weak  and  faint 
impressions  of  heavenly  concerns,  we  may  expect  to  find 
a  fast  hold  kept  upon  the  world.  Just  in  proportion  as 
the  one  is  undervalued,  the  other  is  sure  to  be  over- 
estimated. The  interests  of  the  present  life  are  eagerly 
sought  after,  the  affairs  of  eternity  postponed  :  hence  all 
manner  of  temptations  creep  in. 

A  Christian  parent  had  once,  led  by  prospects  of 
worldly  advancement,  placed  his  son  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  public  means  of  grace,  and  in  the  midst  of  mani- 
fold temptations.  The  son  was  shortly  after  on  a  visit 
to  his  father;  and  the  parent  prayed,  in  his  family 
worship,  that  the  boy  might  be  preserved,  amidst  the 
various  perils  of  his  situation.  The  youth  reflected, 
What  1  does  my  father  put  me  into  the  devil's  mouth ; 
and  then  pray  to  God  that  the  devil  may  not  be  allowed 
to  swallow  me  up  ?  Surely  to  have  occasioned  such  a 
reflection  from  a  child,  must  have  been  very  painful  to 
the  parent  ? 

The  result  of  this  line  of  conduct,  half-christian,  half- 
worldly,  is  to  bring  up  a  race  of  young  persons  ac- 
quainted with  the  truths  of  religion,  but  without  any 
effectual  feeling  of  its  power.  They  are  thus  in  a  worse 
situation  than  even  the  more  ignorant :  since  the  sound 
of  the  gospel  can  hardly  reach  the  latter  without  some 
awakening  of  the  conscience:  whereas  on  the  former 
everything  that  can  be  said  falls  as  a  mere  repetition  of 


3C  IISrTEODUCTION. 

what  had  been  fully  known  for  years,  but  never  deeply 
or  effectually  felt. 

The  spirit  of  Mr.  Eichmond,  then, — ^Jiis  fervent  love 
for  his  children's  souls,  his  never-ceasing  anxiety,  his 
constant  watchfulness,  his  daily  and  hourly  prayers,  not 
of  form  but  of  faith — furnish  unitedly  a  model,  to  which 
the  attention  of  Christian  parents  may  be  most  advan- 
tageously directed. 

Besting  in  the  form  of  godliness  without  its  life  and 
power,  is  one  of  the  great  dangers  to  which  the  church 
is  peculiarly  exposed  in  this  day  of  general  profession ; 
and  parents  had  need  be  very  watchful  that  they  do  not 
unawares  foster  the  most  dangerous  self-deception  in 
their  children,  by  giving  them  credit  for  genuine  regene- 
ration and  conversion,  where  there  has  been  nothing 
more  than  excited  natural  feelings  without  any  real 
spiritual  change.  When  the  young  possess  nothing  more 
that  what  naturally  amiable  dispositions  under  religious 
culture  may  easily  produce,  they  are  soon  overset  in  the 
rough  sea  of  this  world's  trials  and  temptations.  Let 
parents  beware  of  too  soon  speaking  peace  and  rest  to  an 
awakened  mind,  or  a  troubled  conscience. 

The  nature  of  a  successful  Christian  education  is  next 
to  be  noticed.  And  we  would  not  here  dwell  on  subjects 
which  are  generally  acknowledged,  such  as  prompt 
obedience  and  the  honouring  of  parents,  but  would 
rather  point  out  things  which  are  too  often  neglected. 

1.  The  first  thing  is  rightly  to  know  the  true  found- 
ation OP  OUR  HOPES  of  success.  This  is  nothing  less 
solid  than  the  sure  promises  of  God's  word,  many  of 
which  are  very  precious  to  a  Christian  parent's  heart ; 
such  as  Deut.  vii.  9.  Psalm  xxxvii.  25,  26 ;  c,  5 ;  cii. 
28 ;  ciii.  17,  18 ;  cxii.  2.  Prov.  xi.  21 ;  xx.  7 ;  xxii.  6. 
Isaiah  xliv.  8 — 5;  li.  8;  Ixv.  23.  Luke  i.  50.  Acts  ii. 
88,  39.  To  know  rightly  this  foundation,  and  humbly 
and  simply  to  build  upon  it  in  the  acting  out  of  these 


INTKODUCTION.  XI 

promises,  whicli  were  sealed  to  our  daildren  in  Christian 
baptism,  through  faith,  and  prayer,  and  consistent  con- 
duct, patiently  waiting  on  God  to  fulfil  them  in  his  own 
time, — constitute  an  important  first  step  to  successful 
education. 

2.  We  must  join  with  this  a  clear  view  of  the  only 
governing  cause  of  success ;  the  fkee  and  kich  geace 
OF  God  our  Father.  All  his  children  are  born,  not  of 
hlood,  nor  of  the  will  of  the  flesh,  nor  of  the  will  of  man, 
hut  of  God.  Here  is  the  origin,  here  is  the  maintaining 
and  continuing  strength,  here  is  the  final  triumph  of 
all  our  efforts ;  and  to  cultivate  a  habit  of  constantly 
looking  to,  and  habitually  depending  upon  God,  in  daily 
prayer,  in  every  instruction,  and  in  every  plan,  formed 
for  our  children,  is  a  main  principle  for  obtaining  their 
spiritual  good.  The  faith  and  prayers  of  a  parent  are 
specially  prevalent  with  our  gracious  Eedeemer  — 
Mark  ix.  23,  24. 

3.  Another  material  point  is,  to   let   our  eye   be 

SINGLE       IN       SEEKING       PRIMARILY      THEIR      SPIRITUAL 

WELFARE :  an  all-directing  and  controlling  principle  in 
education  should  be,  to  seeh  first  the  Idngdom  of  God  and 
his  righteousness,  for  our  children.  This  should  in- 
fluence us,  as  to  the  place  in  which  we  fix  them,  the 
company  to  which  we  introduce  them,  the  books  we 
wish  them  to  read,  the  situation  we  desire  for  them,  and 
in  short,  as  to  everything  we  do  concerning  them. 

4.  The  diligent  and  right  use  of  the  means 
OF  GRACE,  is  a  most  important  help  for  children  —  such 
as  daily  reading  the  scriptures,  prayer,  habits  of  self- 
examination,  regular  attendance  on  public  worship, 
and  as  they  grow  up;  Confirmation  and  the  Lord's 
supper.  But  besides  all  these  means,  the  most  important, 
perhaps,  is  that  constant  inculcation  of  divine  truth, 
to  which  we  are  so  plainly  directed  in  the  scriptures: 
These  words  which  I  command  thee   this   day   shall  he   in 


Xll  INTEOD  tJCTION. 

thine  heart;  and  thou  shalt  teach  them  diligently  unto 
thy  children,  and  shalt  talk  of  them  luhen  thou  sittest 
in  thine  house,  and  when  thou  walkest  hy  th^  way, 
and  when  thou  liest  down,  and  when  thou  risest  up:  and 
thou  shalt  hind  them  for  a  sign  upon  thine  hand,  and 
they  shall  he  as  frontlets  hetween  thine  eyes.  And  thou 
shalt  ivrite  them  upon  the  posts  of  thine  house  and  on  thy 
gates.  Particular  instruction  of  the  children  by  them- 
selves, and  a  mother's  private  and  individual  conversa- 
tion with  them,  are  also  of  great  moment. 

5.  Discipline  is  a  matter  of  constant  necessity.  A 
well-disciplined  Christian  child  is  the  best  gift  which 
a  parent  can  bestow  on  his  country;  whilst  children 
left  to  themselves,  and  with  no  settled  habits  of  patient 
and  steady  application,  are  likely  to  be  sources  of  much 
trouble  to  their  fellow-creatures.  Discipline  will  seek 
constantly  to  restrain,  check  and  subdue  all  that  is 
wrong,  or  leading  to  wrong,  and  to  animate  and  en- 
courage all  that  is  right.  Every  day  brings  fresh 
occasion  for  its  exercise,  with  regard  to  appetite,  plea- 
sures, temper,  coveting  the  things  of  others,  neglecting 
duties,  disorderly  practices,  and  indeed  all  the  varied 
events  of  life. 

6.  Punishment  must  not  be  withheld,  but  must  be 
varied  according  to  the  degree  of  fault.  It  is  important 
also  that  the  scale  by  which  we  measure  the  degrees  of 
wrong  should  be  scriptural.  Sins  directly  against  God, 
and  moral  faults,  such  as  falsehood,  passion,  and  taking 
anything  that  does  not  belong  to  them,  call  for  the 
severest  punishment,  and  should  never  be  passed  by 
without  chastisement :  while  accidents  from  carelessness, 
though  they  may  occasion  us  a  serious  injury,  yet  should 
be  visited  with  a  lighter  penalty,  as  not  being  intentional 
faults.  On  the  mode  of  punishment,  the  reader  will  find 
valuable  remarks  in  this  volume. 


introduction.  xiu 

7.  Foster  and  encourage,  by  wise  and  Christian 
APPROBATION,  everything  that  is  lovely  and  excellent. 
Much  may  be  done  in  forming  the  character,  by  due 
attention  to  this:  all  truth,  openness,  generosity,  self- 
denial,  and  love  to  others ;  all  diligence  and  application 
in  good  pursuits  should  have  the  parental  smile  of  favour ; 
as  all  those  things  which  are  opposite  to  these  should  be 
discouraged  by  marks  of  disapprobation. 
.  8.  Earnestly  watch  against  seeking  great  things 
FOR  YOUR  children.  Oh!  the  inexpressible  folly  of 
aiming  to  gain  for  them  high  connexions,  in  classes  of 
society  above  them ;  and  for  this  end  placing  them  in 
situations  of  danger,  that  they  may  form  associations 
with  their  superiors !  "What  havoc  has  this  made  among 
the  children  of  pious  parents!  Mind  not  high  things, 
should  be  our  plain  rule.  Seekest  thou  great  things  for 
thyself?  seek  them  not,  God  give  us  grace  to  attend  to 
these  clear  directions  of  his  word.  If  we  trust  him,  his 
providence  will  call  our  children  to  those  scenes  in  which 
they  may  safely  and  honourably  serve  others,  and  glorify 
his  name ;  and  we  shall  be  preserved  from  the  anguish 
of  seeing  them  bring  reproach  on  the  gospel  of  Christ. 

9.  The  last  thing  that  I  would  notice  is  our  OWN 
consistency  of  conduct,  as  essential  to  the  full  effect 
of  a  Christian  education.  If  Christian  parents  act  in- 
consistently with  their  blessed  principles, — if  they  are 
irritable,  selfish,  proud,  disorderly,  passionate,  and 
covetous,  what  can  be  expected,  but  similarly  evil  tem- 
pers in  their  children.  But  if  tljey  are  poor  in  spirit, 
meek,  mourning  for  sin,  and  hungering  and  thirsting 
after  righteousness,  and  possess  and  manifest  the  other 
graces  of  a  Christian,  it  is  an  immense  auxiliary  to  all 
their  religious  instruction.  In  fact,  it  is  one  just  retribu- 
tion of  all  evil  ways,  that  our  children  soon  manifest 
similar  evil  ways :  while  on  the  other  hand,  an  exhibition 

2 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

of  holy  conduct  enforces  every  pions  exhortation,  and 
strengthens  every  solid  principle,  which  we  endeavour 
to  communicate  to  them. 

The  Editor  subjoins  a  little  sketch  of  principles  of 
education,  by  which  he  has  desired  and  endeavoured 
that  his  own  conduct  should  be  governed. 


POINTS  TO  BE  KEPT  IN  YIEW,  IN  A 
KELIGIOUS  EDUCATION. 

I.  Spiritual  Peosperity. 

1.  Pray  for  them. 

2.  Ever  instil  Christian  principles. 

8.  Act  in  the  spirit  of  the  gospel  towards  them„ 

4.  "Watch  over  their  intercourse  with  others. 

5.  Teach  them  to  govern  their  tempers. 

6.  See  that  they  diligently  attend  the  means  of  grace. 

II.  Health  of  Body. 

1.  Their  minds  not  to  be  too  much  pressed. 

2.  Exercise  to  be  regularly  taken. 

8.  "Watch  against  their  ignorance  and  carelessness. 

4.  Temperance  in  diet  to  be  observed. 

5.  Things  injurious  to  health  to  be  avoided. 

6.  Early  in  bed  and  early  rising. 

7.  Kemember  the  incessant  activity  and  subtilty  of 
Satan. 

III.  Mental  Cultivation. 

1.  To  be  well  grounded  in  what  they  learn. 

2.  Minds  to  be  strengthened  by  solid  works. 

8.  Habits  of  reflection  to  be  formed  and  called  forth. 

4.  See  that  they  understand  their  lessons. 

5.  Habits  of  self-denial  to  be  formed. 

6.  Things  useful  to  be  especially  attended  to. 

lY.  Manners. 

1.  Kindness  to  run  through  everything ;  their  morals, 
school;  play;  walks,  behaviour  to  each  other,  and 
all  around,  parents,  and  servants. 

XV 


XVI  INTRODUCTION. 

2.  To  show  its  true  foundation  in  Christian  principle. 
Eom.  xii.  10 ;  1  Peter  iii.  8. 

3.  It  is  a  victory  over  our  natural  selfishness. 

4.  It  promotes  the  happiness  of  all  around  us. 

V.  Accomplishments. 

1.  Are  of  a  secondary  value. 

2.  A  means  of  relaxation. 

3.  They  commend  religion  to  others. 

4.  Be  sure  that  they  are  innocent. 

5.  Guard  against  those  which  will  lead  them  into  the 
world. 

YL  The  Saviour  all  in  all. 

1.  In  every  point  show  them  Christ. 
He,  the  root  of  spiritual  prosperity. 
He,  the  Physician  of  body  and  soul ; 

•  He,  the  Giver  of  mental  power ; 
He,  altogether  lovely  in  all  his  ways ; 
He,  full  of  gifts  and  full  of  grace. 

2.  Let  every  thing  turn  the  mind  to  him. 

In  every  walk,  in  every  lesson,  in  every  event,  in 
every  sin,  in  every  mercy,  speak  of  Christ, 

3.  Let  him  be  the  sun  and  the  glory  of  every  day. 

VII.    Means. 

1.  ''  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee." 

2.  "  He  will  give  his  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask." 

3.  "  1  am  thy  God,  I  will  strengthen  thee,  yea,  I  will  up- 

hold thee  with  the  right  hand  of  my  righteousness." 

Edward  Bickersteth. 
Watton  Rectory,  February  12,  1834. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Eemakks  OK  Education — Public  moeals — Pub- 
lic AND  Pkivate  Education 25 


CHAPTER  II. 

Mr.   Richmond's  plan  of   education — Amuse- 
ments FOR  LEISURE  HOURS — THE  KALEIDESCOPE 

—  Lines  on  the  Solar  System    -    -        -    -    37 


CHAPTER  III. 

The  usual  amusements  of  young  people  exclu- 
ded—  Keeping   of  .birth-days — letters    on 

(xvu) 


XVlll  CONTENTS. 

THESE  OCCASIONS— Choice  op  companions  — 
Home  cokkespondence — Discipline — Lettees 
TO  HIS  children 53 


CHAPTEE  lY. 

Eesidence  at  the  Univeksity — Lettees  to  a 
young  man  matriculating  at  Cambridge — 
Subjects  omitted  in  Me.  Eichmond's  plan  of 
education 109 

CHAPTEE  Y. 

Life  of  Nugent  Eichmond — Sponsorship — Let- 
ter TO  SPONSORS  —  EeMARKS  ON  THE  MINISTRY  — 

Nugent  sent  to  sea — Occurrences  in  Ls-dia 
—  Letters  to  .  his  parents — His  expected 
return  —  His  death      - 134 

CHAPTEE  Yl. 

Life  of  Wilberforce  Eichmond  —  His  child- 
hood—  Letter  to  his  father — Mr.  Eich- 
mond's letters  to  Wilberforforce  in  his 
childhood  —  Wilberforce's  early  character 

AND  LETTERS  —  LiNES  ON  WiLRERFORCE'S  BIRTH- 
DAY—  Mr.  Eichmond's  LETTERS  TO  iiiM     -    -    -168 


CONTENTS.  XIX 

CHAPTEK  VII. 

Latter  days  of  "Wilberforce  —  His  illness  — 
YisiT  TO  Scotland  —  Eeturn  —  Conversations 
WITH  HIS  father       -  215 

CHAPTEE  YIII. 
Closing   hours    of    his    life — Conversations 

WITH     his     family  —  HiS     DEATH  —  Mr.     EiCH- 


CHAPTEE  IX. 

Mr.  Eichmond's  third  daughter  —  His  letters 
to  her  —  Marriage  admonitions — Conversa- 
tion WITH  THE  author  —  HeR  SICKNESS  AND 
DEATH 285 

CHAPTEE  X. 
Concluding  Eemarks 311 


TO  THE  READER 


If  any  apology  be  deemed  needful  in  presenting  to 
tlie  public  another  volume  connected  with  Mr.  Eich- 
mond's  name  and  memory,  we  might  refer  to  the  lively 
interest  with  which  the  productions  of  his  pen  have  ever 
been  received,  and  the  frequent  demand  made  for  more 
of  his  correspondence.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the 
letters  now  published  were  not  intended  to  be  read  by 
any  one  beyond  the  circle  of  his  own  family,  and  they 
are  not  introduced  on  the  present  occasion  as  specimens 
of  extraordinary  talent  and  composition,  but  with  a  view 
to  exhibit  the  unwearied  efforts  of  a  Christian  father  in 
the  education  of  his  children,  and  to  encourage  those 
who  are  engaged  in  the  same  pursuit"  to  hope  to  the  end ; 
while  they  diligently  persevere  in  the  use  of  means  ; 
since  they  may  here  contemplate  another  proof  that  God 
is  faithful  to  his  promise —  "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart 
from  it." 

It  has  not  been  the  design  of  the  Editor  to  censure 
others,  who  may  adopt  a  mode  of  education  somewhat 
different ;  or  to  claim  for  his  friend  or  himself  an  exclu- 
sive right  to  dictate  to  the  church  of  God.     Mr.  K.  had, 

(xxi) 


XXn  TO    THE    RE  A  DEE. 

in  some  respects,  Lis  peculiarities;  and  men  must  judge 
for  themselves  as  to  their  imitation  of  them ;  but  there 
can  be  no  mistake  in  earnestly  recommending  to  their 
regard  and  love  —  his  devout  and  heavenly  spirit  — 
his  consistent  and  firm  preference  of  eternal  to  temporal 
advantages,  and  the  evident  blessing  of  God  which 
crowned  with  success  his  method  of  instructing  his 
famiLy.  May  the  same  Divine  Blessing  accompany  the 
present  humble  attempt  to  promote  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  spiritual  good  of  men. 

NOTE    BY    THE    AMERICAN    EDITOR. 

This  volume  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  two  classes  of 
persons,  to  whom  a  word  of  exhortation  may  not  be 
out  of  place. 

.  1.  Those  who  may  say  as  they  read  "This  example  is 
indeed  admirable,  my  heart  concurs  in  every  line,  but  alas 
it  is  too  high  for  me.  Such  results  have  been  rare,  and  will 
continue  to  be  rare."  But  have  such  results  been  less  com- 
mon than  such  TRAINING  ?  So  far  from  it,  we  believe 
that  in  the  mercy  of  God  they  have  been  much  more 
common.  This  unbelief,  therefore,  must  touch  the  prac- 
ticability of  the  the  training,  not  the  probability  of  the 
RESULTS.  Such  training  has  not  indeed  been  hitherto 
common  in  Christian  families ;  but  let  none  give  place  to 
unbelief  or  discouragement  on  this  ground.  The  time 
approaches  when  such  instances  shall  no  longer  be  rare, 
but  common ;  and  the  very  narrative  (which  has  passed 
through  so  many  editions)  has  doubtless  induced  many 
blessed  experiments,  the  full  results  of  which  will  not 
be  known  until  the  judgment  day. 


TO    THE    READER.  xxiii 

2.  Those  who  may  say  to  themselves  "  Would  lo  God 
I  could  have  seen  this  book  at  an  earlier  day,  for  never 
have  1  seen  before  so  clearly  both  the  practicability  and 
the  way  of  training  a  family  for  Christ ;  but  now  the 
time  is  past  —  my  children  are  grown,  or  they  are 
gone  from  me,  or  they  are  beyond  my  influence."  But 
even  such  should  not  say,  "my  hope  is  lost" — for 
prayers  and  means  may  avail  while  life  lasts ;  and  this 
volume  itself  be  sent  where  the  parent's  voice  cannot  go, 
and  be  his  testimony. 


DOMESTIC    POETRATTURE. 


CHAPTEE   I. 


Quoniam  rofert  a  quibus  ct  quo  quisque  modo  sit  institutus. 

QUINTILLIAN.* 

The  importance  of  education  lias  ever  been  acknow- 
ledged by  all  civilized  commnnities.  To  the  diffusion 
of  knowledge,  and  its  influence  on  the  economy  of  life, 
may  be  traced  the  superiority  of  one  age  and  country 
over  another ;  and  it  is  the  neglect  or  the  cultivation  of 
their  minds,  which  forms  the  only  true  distinction 
between  man  and  his  fellow. 

The  education  of  their  youth  was  esteemed  by  some 
nations  to  be  so  intimately  connected  with  the  public 
weal;  that  they  placed  the  children  of  the  subject  under 
the  superintendence  of  teachers  chosen  by  the  state ;  a 
practice  which,  no  doubt,  inspired  a  political  patriotism, 
but  at  the  expense  of  many  better  feelings,  and  with  the 
risk  of  enfeebling,  if  not  dissolving,  those  parental  ties, 
on  which  the  conduct  and  happiness  of  life  must  greatly 
depend. 

There  have  been  many  writers  on  this  subject,  and 
widely  differing  from  each  other  in  their  respective 
theories.     The  opinions  of  some  are  so  extravagant,  and 

*  "It  is  of  great  moment  by  Ayhom  and  in  -wliat  manner  every  one  is 
educated." 

?  (25) 


26  RE^IAKKS     ON     EDUCATION. 

SO  opposed  to  all  soTincl  practical  wisdom,  as  scarcely  to 
deserve  an  allusion.  Who  could  have  supposed  that  a 
grave  and  intelligent  author  would  recommend  a  parent 
to  leave  his  child  without  instruction  until  nearly  the 
age  of  manhood,  under  the  pretence  of  not  embarrassing 
freedom  of  thought  ?  If  such  a  strange  conceit  could  be 
acted  upon,  it  would  soon  reduce  an  enlightened  people 
to  the  condition  of  barbarians.  But  the  experiment  is 
impracticable,  for  "  the  process  in  the  formation  of  char- 
acter, though  rude  and  ruinous  by  neglect,  will  go  on." 
From  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  a  succession  of  hourly 
evfents,  and  influences  of  a  thousand  kinds,  will  gradually 
and  ultimately  establish  habits,  and  give  capacity  for 
happiness  or  misery,  on  an  entrance  into  the  eternal 
world,  according  to  their  result.  A  bias  of  some  kind 
or  other  will  be  received,  and  the  only  alternative  for  our 
choice  is,  whether  that  pre-disposition  which  arises  from 
the  inculcation  of  good  principles,  and  a  reliance  on 
authority  for  a  time,  is  not  preferable  to  the  impulse  of 
corrupt  inclination,  and  the  influence  of  more  corrupt 
communication. 

There  have  been  other  writers  who  seem  disposed  to 
consider  man  as  the  mere  creature  of  circumstances,  and 
education  as  forming  "the  only  ground  of  difference 
between  the  judge  on  the  bench  and  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar."  These  att;ach  too  great  an  importance  to  human 
effort  and  the  force  of  habit,  when  they  compare  a  ra- 
tional agent  to  the  plant  of  the  field,  and  expect  that  he 
will  of  necessity  take  his  form  and  shape  from  the  hand 
of  the  cultivator.  If  they  do  not  deny  in  plain  terms 
the  need  of  divine  interposition,  they  make  no  appeal  to 
it,  and  seem  to  regard  it  as  superfluous  to  the  purposes 
and  ends  of  education.  But  whatever  value  we  set  on 
moral  culture,  its  failure,  in  many  instances, —  a  failure 
so  great  that  corrupt  nature  seems  as  it  were  exasperated 


EEMARKS    ON    EDtJCATION".  27 

to  evil  by  the  very  means  employed  for  its  correction, 
—  affords  a  mournful  proof,  that  "it  is  a  ]poor  centre  of  a 
mavh  actions,  himself.^''  Another  equally  affecting  fact 
leads  us  to  look  higher  than  mere  human  agency :  for 
have  not  many  useful  and  virtuous  characters  sometimes 
appeared  like  lights  in  the  midst  of  darkness  ;  emerging 
from  influences  the  least  calculated  to  warrant  such  an 
expectation  ?  It  never  must  be  concealed  or  forgotten  by 
a  teacher,  that  ''  God  worketh  both  to  will  and  to  do  of 
his  own  good  pleasure."  He  gives  to  the  mind  its  first 
impalse,  and  directs  every  step  in  its  progress,  wherever 
the  culture  of  man  is  successful.  Independence  is  no 
attribute  of  a  creature ;  and  to  challenge  success  as  the 
necessary  result  of  our  own  efforts,  is  a  presumption  no 
less  opposed  to  reason  than  denounced  by  revelation. 
"  JSTot  by  might,  nor  by  power,  but  by  my  Spirit,  saith 
the  Lord." 

There  is  a  third  error  which  has  its  advocates.  "While 
some  attribute  too  much  to  human  culture,  others  expect 
too  little  from  it.  There  is  a  pride  which  inspires  an 
undue  confidence  in  the  use  of  means ;  and  there  is  an 
indolent  reliance  on  divine  aid,  which  vainly  looks  for 
an  end  without  them,  and  disposes  men  to  neglect  or 
wholly  disregard  them.  This  perversion  of  a  truth  gene- 
rates a  reckless  feeling,  and  has  done  great  mischief  in 
religious  families.  It  is  perhaps  a  chief  cause  of  the 
melancholy  spectacle  not  unfrequently  exhibited,  in  the 
ruin  of  many  children,  whose  parents  have  professed  to 
respect  and  value  Christian  principles.  They  '  seem  to 
overlook  both  the  precept  and  the  promise  of  the  word 
of  God ' —  "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go, 
and  when  he  is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it." 

But  dismissing  whatever  is  chimerical  or  mistaken  in 
these  theories,  (for  it  is  not  to  my  purpose  to  carry  the 
discussion  to  a  greater  length,)  I  would  observe,  that  ta 


28  PUBLIC    MORALS. 

train  and  prepare  the  soul  for  its  eternal  destiny  is  the  proper 
business  and  end  of  education.      It  must  be  admitted,  that 
there  are  subordinate  ends  which  may  be  desired,  and 
means  of  the  same  character  which  may  be  employed  for 
their  attainment;  that  a  competent  provision;  acquire- 
ments which  will  render  us  respectable  in  life;  and. all 
that  is  connected  with  the  security  and  promotion  of 
present  happiness,  are  lawful   objects   of  pursuit ;    and 
that  it  is  folly  to  neglect  or  despise  them.    In  many  cases 
it  would  be  a  dereliction  of  duty ;  for  we  must  not  con- 
sider ourselves  as  insulated  beings,  and  "  go  out  of  the 
world,"  but  continue  in  it,  as  "the  salt  of  the  earth,"  to 
dispense  a  purifying  influence.      I  am  not  the  advocate 
of  superstition  or  eccentricity;  but  I  contend  that  the 
chief  end  of  education  is  to  train  for  eternity.      There 
may  be  an  awful  consistency  in  the  sentiments  of  those 
whose  hopes  and  prospects  are  bounded  by  time,  when 
they  say.  We  and  our  children  will  eat  and  drink,  for  to- 
morrow we  die.      But,  independently  of  revelation,  and 
assuming  only  the  belief  of  a  future  state,  —  a  state  to 
be  determined  by  our  conduct  in  the  present  world,  it 
follows  as  a  necessary  consequence,  that  whatever  we 
teach  or  do,  ought  to  have  a  bearing  on  another  condition 
of  being,  and  be  made  subservient  to  its  interests.     Here 
I  stand  on  the  vantage-ground,  and  fear  not  to  make  my 
appeal  to  every  thinking  man;  not  only  whether  the 
welfare  of  a  future  life  can  be  reasonably  set  aside,  and 
children  taught  to  despise  and  disregard  it ;  but  whether 
it  be  consistent  with  the  expectation  of  another  world,  to 
give  it  less  than  the  chief  and   foremost  place  in  our 
thoughts  and  actions.     It  cannot  be  regarded  as  subordi- 
nate or  secondary,  without  exciting  a  just  suspicion  that 
we  do  not  admit  its  existence.      Such  an  appeal  may  be 
made  with  still  greater  force  to  an  avowed  disciple  of  the 
Christian  faith.      The  whole  bearing  of  revelation  goes 


i 


PUBLIC    MORALS.  29 

to  this  point,  ''  Seek  first  tlie  kingdom  of  God."  Let  it 
be  observed,  that  the  question  is  not  here  one  of  mere 
opinion.  Eew  would  venture  to  deny  the  principle,  for 
this  would  be  to  deny  the  authority  of  the  principle ; 
but  we  must  look  to  opinion  as  realized  in  practice,  and 
insist  on  the  propriety  and  necessity  of  interweaving 
religious  principle  as  a  golden  thread  in  the  whole  texture 
of  education ;  deriving  from  it  the  motives,  the  means, 
and  the  end  ;  and  so  steadily  keeping  in  view  the  final 
result,  as  to  make  a  cheerful  sacrifice  of  every  thing 
which  would  be  likely  to  impair  or  interfere  with  it. 

I  may  be  censured  for  rashly  libelling  the  community 
in  which  we  live ;  yet  it  must  be  apparent  to  an  unpre- 
judiced mind,  that  for  the  most  part  we  are  a  nation  of 
Christians  hy  profession,  and  of  heathens  in  opinion  and 
practice.  Christianity  may  have  improved  the  moral 
sense,  or  at  least  driven  into  the  shade  the  grosser  abom- 
inations of  ancient  times ;  but  it  is  a  palpable  fact,  that 
the  Bible  is  not  our  standard ;  nor  a  provision  for  the 
world  to  come,  our  main  object  and  end.  Are  not  our 
motives  derived  from  reputation,  interest,  or  gratifica- 
tion ;  and  were  not  these  the  fulcrum  employed  by  the 
Gentile  world  to  move  the  youthful  mind  to  exertion  ? 
What  are  the  virtues  which  are  prized  and  commended  ? 
We  hear  of  a  becoming  pride  —  a  conscious  dignity  —  a 
noble  ambition  —  a  deserved  scorn  and  contempt  —  a 
just  revenge; — dispositions  and  impulses  of  corrupt 
nature  which  are  totally  condemned  by  the  word  of  God. 
In  what  light  are  many  acknowledged  vices  regarded  by 
us !  The  Christian  and  the  heathen  moralist  equally 
reprobate  murder,  impurity,  and  fraud;  and  legislators 
of  everj^  age  hdve  enacted  laws  to  deter  from  their  com- 
mission; but  do  we  not  in  a  multitude  of  instances 
endeavour  to  hide  the  enormity  of  these  crimes,  when 
we  cannot  alter  their  character,  and   talk  of  a  propei 


30       PUBLIC    AND    3-EIVATE    EDUCATION. 

defence  of  honour,  an  affair  of  gallantry,  and  a  fortunate 
stroke  of  jDolicy  ? 

"All  these  things  the  Gentiles  did,"  and  we,  though 
professing  to  know  God,  by  our  imitation  of  their 
actions,  dishonour  him.  Even  when  a  stricter  rule  of 
morals  is  approved,  the  leading  feature  of  heathen  ages 
is  still  retained,  and  a  boy  is  taught  by  the  example  of 
his  teacher,  and  by  the  conduct  of  all  around  him,  to 
regard  religion  as  an  affair  of  secondary  importance  —  at 
best  to  be  viewed  with  awe  at  a  distance  —  not  to  be 
brought  into  contact  with  all  his  aims  and  ends ;  as  a 
something  he  must  submit  to  of  necessity,  rather  than 
choose  as  a  source  of  the  purest  enjoyment.  The  pecu- 
liarities of  the  gospel,  in  principle,  disposition,  and  con- 
duct, are  so  far  from  being  applauded  or  enforced,  that 
the  very  reference  to  them  on  any  ordinary  occasion, 
would  expose  him  to  suspicion,  scorn,  and  reproach. 

This  is  no  idle  declamation,  but  a  simple  statement  of 
facts ;  and  it  is  worth  while  to  enquire  the  cause  of  so 
lamentable  a  departure  from  the  character  of  true  Chris- 
tianity. 

We  will  therefore  'examine  the  course  of  education 
pursued  in  this  country,  as  it  is  conducted  in  public 
schools,  or  by  private  tuition,  and  which,  if  carried  on, 
is  usually  completed  at  one  of  the  universities. 

A  public  school  presents  some  advantages.  These 
consist  chiefly,  perhaps,  in  the  superior  ability  and  attain- 
ments of  the  masters,  who  are  generally  selected  from 
the  ablest  scholars  of  the  age.  The  pleas  often  urged,  of 
the  value  of  connexions,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  world, 
(which  to  boys  can  neither  be  necessary  nor  useful,)  seem 
to  carry  little  weight ;  and  if  allowed  to  possess  any,  are 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  evils  arising  out  of 
numbers,  bad  companions,  and  the  neglect  of  the  Holy 
Scriptures,  which  lay  a  foundation  for  habits  and  conduct 


I 


PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE    EDUCATION.        81 

in  life  beyond  measure  injurious.  Many  private  schools 
abound  with  the  same  evils,  and  offer  fewer  advantages 
than  the  larger  establishments.  In  both  cases,  it  has 
been  justly  observed,  instruction  may  be  secured  in  the 
school-room,  but  education  is  carried  on  in  the  play- 
ground, or  in  the  dormitory.  There  is  seldom  at  such 
seasons  any  superintendence.  Neither  the  eye  nor  the 
ear  of  the  master  is  with  his  pupils,  and  they  are,  for  the 
most  part,  left  without  controul  or  restraint,  to  follow 
the  devices  of  their  own  minds.  A  few  elder  boys  pre- 
scribe the  standard  of  opinion  and  conduct,  and  what- 
ever may  be  erroneous  or  corrupt  in  the  leaders,  finds  a 
ready  acquiescence  from  those  below  them.  Painful  are 
the  details  of  a  Tyro,-  who  either  boasts  or  laments  the 
fruits  of  these  evil  communications. 

The  neglect  of  religion  in  public  schools  has  often 
been  asserted,  and  the  charge  repelled  with  indignation. 
Certain  it  is,  however,  that  the  greater  number  of  pupils 
leave  these  establishments  and  enter  into  life,  with  an 
ignorance  and  indifference  towards  religion,  or  with  an 
avowed  contempt  for  it.  They  have  no  idea  of  viewing 
it  as  the  end  of  their  being, —  the  rule  of  their  conduct, 
and  to  be  carried  by  them  as  a  governing  principle  into 
every  event  and  transaction  of  life.  It  has  evidently 
not  been  a  prominent  feature  in  their  past  studies.  A 
form  of  prayer,  a  chapter  in  the  Greek  Testament  on  the 
Sunday,  or  an  exercise  for  the  memory  from  some  ele- 
mentary author,  (and  such  I  believe  to  be  the  amount  of 
religious  instruction,)  are  poor  substitutes  for  a  constant 
reference  to  the  commands  and  promises,  the  motives 
and  models  of  the  Bible, — for  a  diligent  cultivation  of 
right  habits  and  opinions.  Can  it  be  said,  with  any 
truth,  that  the  word  of  God  is  read  daily,  or  pains  taken 
in  its  application  to  the  heart  and  conscience  ?  Although 
a  decent  respect  may  be  incuicated  for  revelation,  is  a 


32        PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE    EDUCATION. 

boy  instructed  by  liis  teacher  to  regard  tbe  world  as  a 
bauble,  and  tlie  service  of  God  as  bis  glory  ?  Are  sinful 
tempers  watched  over  and  reproved  ?  Are  heavenly  dis- 
positions cultivated  and  encouraged  with  a  close  and 
intimate  inspection  of  morals  and  the  employment  of 
leisure  hours?  They  can  best  answer  these  questions 
who  have  been  the  victims  of  vices  contracted  in  our 
public  schools ;  or  who,  when  awakened  to  real  prin- 
ciples and  piety  in  after  years,  have  endured  throughout 
life  a  kind  of  martyrdom,  in  conflicting  with  the  sinful 
habits  acquired  in  their  youthful  career. 

The   chief  studies  in  our  public  seminaries  are  the 
classics.     Science,  till  of  late  years,  formed  no  part  of 
them,   nor  has  it   even  now  more  than  a  small  share 
of  the  seven  or  eight  years  devoted  to  acquire  an  iraper 
feet  acquaintance  with  the  authors  of  Greece  and  Kome. 

The  objection  made  to  the  use  of  heathen  authors 
in  Christian  education  are  not  always  valid.  Classical 
knowledge  forms  a  good  foundation  for  theological 
attainment,  while  it  is  considered  as  the  handmaid  of 
religion,  and  is  made  subservient  to  its  purposes.  An 
illiterate  ministry  is  never  a  safe  one ;  nor  can  a  sound 
and  accurate  interpretation  of  the  word  of  truth  be 
expected  without  a  knowledge  of  the  original  languages, 
and  without  that  disposition  to  sober  and  patient  investi- 
gation, which  the  habits  and  discipline  of  the  mind, 
under  proper  culture,  seldom  fail  to  inspire. 

The  more  valid  objections  apply  rather  to  the  manner 
of  teaching  the  classics ;  to  their  being  viewed  as  an  end, 
not  a  means ;  and  to  the  measure  of  time  and  attention 
bestowed  on  them,  to  the  exclusion  of  more  important  sub 
jects  which  would  counteract  the  evils  incident  to  them. 

While  discussing  the  merits  of  school  education,  I 
cannot  refrain  from  adverting  to  a  modern  system,  which 
discards  the  aid  of  reliojioa  in  the  hours  of  instructior. 


PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE     EDUCATION.        33 

I  view  this  novel  experiment  with  extreme  alarm.  The 
reduction  of  expense,  and  a  plausible  pretence  to  liber- 
ality of  sentiment,  has  prevailed  on  men  of  real  piety  to 
give  their  sanction  to  it ;  and  they  have  been  seduced,  in 
their  simplicity,  to  approve  a  plan  more  worthy  of  the 
enemies  of  religion  than  of  its  friends.  The  classical 
tutor  must  take  the  Bible  in  his  hand  with  every  book 
of  instruction,  or  the  mind  of  his  pupil  will  necessarily 
be  exposed  to  the  daily  influence  of  many  things  which 
are  false  in  principle  aud  vicious  in  practice.  He  will 
insensibly  be  led  to  prefer  knowledge  to  its  right  use 
and  application,  and  to  estimate  talent  above  piety.  He 
will  despise,  as  unworthy  the  manly  age,  the  principles 
confined  to  the  nursery  and  the  family,  and  which  are 
never  brought  before  him  by  those  whom  he  is  taught  to 
regard  with  superior  veneration  and  respect.  "We  may*, 
boast  of  the  march  of  intellect,  and  treat  with  supercil- 
ious contempt  the  example  and  usages  of  former  ages, 
but  the  diffusion  of  unsanctified  hnowledge  will  prove  a 
great  evil  to  the  community.  The  feeblest  recognitiou 
of  a  Deity,  and  the  admission  only  of  the  forms  of 
religion — nay,  even  superstition  itself,  is  preferable  to 
the  entire  exclusion  of  all  reference  to  a  divine  power. 

"Ko  institution,"  said  my  excellent  friend,  "can  or 
ought  to  stand,  in  which  Christ  is  not  the  foundation ; 
and  I  wholly  disapprove  of  all  schemes  which  delib- 
erately shut  God  out  of  their  direction." 

To  schools,  and  particularly  to  the  manner  in  which 
they  are  conducted,  Mr.  Kichmond  felt  the  strongest 
repugnance.  The  sentiments  which  I  have  laid  before 
the  reader,  are,  in  fact,  the  substance  of  conversations 
with  him  on  these  subjects.  He  never  spoke  without 
emotion  when  he  recollected  the  vices  which  his  eldest 
son  had  contracted  by  a  •public  education,  and  the  sad 
influence   of  bad   connexions  formed   under   those  cir- 


34       PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE    EDUCATION. 

cumstances ;  and  which,  counteracting  the  good  effects 
of  early  instruction  at  home,  caused  the  ruin,  as  he  used 
to  say,  ''of  his  poor  wanderer."  He  resolved,  in  con- 
sequence,  to  adopt  the  plan  of  home  education,  with  the 
assistance  of  a  private  tutor. 

Private  teaching  has  certainly  some  disadvantages, 
but  they  are  few  in  comparison  of  the  benefits  secured. 
I  grant  that  there  is  a  danger  of  irregularity  in  the 
hours  of  study,  arising  from  visitors  and  invitations  — 
the  severity  of  needful  discipline  may  be  softened  into 
a  mischievous  relaxation  by  affection,  ill-directed  and 
unduly  interfering  with  the  teacher  —  and  the  stimulus 
of  competition,  the  desire  of  distinction  and  the  love  of 
praise  (very  questionable  motives,  however)  are  lost. 
But  these  and  every  other  defect  of  a  private  education 
may  be  remedied ;  Avhile  advantages  of  the  utmost  im- 
portance in  ^  the  formation  of ,  character  are  secured. 
Eegular  habits  may  be  established — interruptions  of 
every  kind  prevented  by  a  firm  resistance  to  them — 
motives  in  unison  with  the  scriptures  will  be  found 
more  than  adequate  to  every  occasion — the  devotional 
exercises  of  the  closet  may  be  watched — hourly  oppor- 
tunities will  be  afibrded  for  breaking  off  the  shoots  of 
evil  as  they  spring  up,  an  example  of  principle  em- 
bodied in  action  may  be  presented  to  youthful  obser- 
vation, and  affections  of  the  best  kind  be  cultivated 
between  the  members  of  the  family — much  useful  gen- 
eral knowledge  may  be  imparted,  and  a  fair  share  of 
the  learning  of  public  schools  be  acquired.  Numbers 
can  only  be  restrained  by  force  or  fear,  or  excited 
by  pride  and  interest.  Choice,  affection,  principle,  can 
seldom  be  employed.  The  discijDline  of  a  great  school 
must  be  that  of  a  man-of-war,  and  it  is  conducted  in 
either  case  under  much  the  snme  necessity.  Two  or 
three  boys  may  be  watched  every  hour — evil  checked 


PUBLIC    AND    PEIVATE     EDUCATION.       85 

as  it  arises — every  occurrence  improved  —  religion  in- 
fused into  every  pursuit  and  instruction,  without  any 
necessity  for  recurring  to  stimuli  which  befit  only  the 
lowest  condition  of  mortal  existence;  and  are  never 
found,  in  their  application,  to  produce  any  other  effect 
than  to  depress  or  exasperate  generous  natures. 

There  is  an  error  which  universally  obtains  in  every 
plan  of  education,  public  and  private,  and  which  is  per- 
haps a  principal  cause  of  the  distaste  of  our  young  per- 
sons for  grave  and  solid  studies.  I'hey  are  never  taught 
to  think.  Materials  in  abundance  are  set  before  them, 
but  they  know  nothing  of  the  use  and  end  designed  by 
working  them ;  they  are  ignorant  of  the  rationale  of 
grammar,  or  the  application  of  science.  The  memory  is 
burdened  as  a  drudge,  while  the  understanding  remains 
torpid  and  unexercised :  and  thus  the  interest  which  real 
knowledge  inspires  is  lost  in  the  mere  acquisition  of 
words.  A  boy  can  give  a  rule  but  not  a  reason.  Pesta- 
lozzi  has  attempted,  with  some  success,  to  improve 
former  methods  of  imparting  knowledge,  but  even  his 
system  falls  short  of  rational  instruction;  in  which  the 
understanding  and  the  heart  should  keep  pace  with  the 
progress  of  the  memory.  The  practice  of  enforcing  by 
authority,  instead  of  leading  the  mind  to  investigate, 
explain,  and  digest  in  the  exercise  of  its  own  energies, 
disposes  a  youth  to  affirm  rather  than  prove ;  and  resting 
contented  with  a  crude  and  superficial  acquaintance  with 
all  subjects,  to  shrink  from  the  labour  of  acquiring  solid 
and  accurate  information.  It  would  be  a  very  salutary 
practice  to  withhold  from  young  persons  the  use  and 
enjoyment  of  every  thing,  however  simple,  whether  an 
effort  of  art  or  nature,  till  they  had  prepared  themselves 
to  explain  its  history,  origin,  place,  and  means  of  produc- 
tion. Thus  no  moment  would  run  to  waste ;  and  table- 
talk,   which    now   consists    of  little    more   than  barren 


PUBLIC    AND    PRIVATE    EDUCATION. 

details,  would  become  a  vehicle  of  mucli  interesting  and 
useful  communication. 

If  science  ouglit  not  to  precede  language,  they  should 
walk  together  as  friends  from  the  commencement,  and 
be  associated  throughout  the  progress  of  education. 

But  leaving  the  reader  to  form  his  own  opinion  on  the 
comparative  merits  of  public  and  private  education,  I 
shall  lay  before  him,  in  the  next  chapter,  the  method  re» 
sorted  to  by  Mr.  Eichmond  in  his  family  arrangements. 


PLAN  OF  EDUCATIOIT.  37 


CHAPTEE   11. 

And  this  our  life,  exempt  from  public  haunt, 

Finds  tongues  in  trees,  books  in  the  running  brooks. 

Sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  every  thing. 

Shakspearb. 

One  great  reason  why  so  few  people  in  the  world  are  truly  religious,  and 
why  among  the  truly  religious  so  many  are  not  happy  in  their  religion,  is  this, 
that  early  religious  habits  are  too  commonly  associated,  not  with  cheerfulness, 
but  with  constraint  and  gloom.  Jebb. 

Mr.  Eichmond's  first  object  was  to  make  home  tlae 
happiest  place  to  his  children ;  to  render  them  indepen- 
dent of  foreign  alliances  in  their  pursuits  and  friendships ; 
and  so  to  interest  them  in  domestic  enjoyments,  as  to 
preclude  the  feeling,  too  common  in  young  people,  of 
restlessness  and  longing  to  leave  their  own  fire-sides,  and 
wander  abroad  in  search  of  pleasure  and  employment. 
In  this  attempt  to  satisfy  his  family,  and  engage  their 
compliance  with  his  wishes,  he  so  completely  succeeded, 
that  every  member  of  it  left  home  with  regret,  even  for 
an  occasional  visit,  and  returned  to  Turvey  with  fond 
anticipation, —  as  to  the  place  of  their  treasures. 

To  his  daughter  F he  writes  — 

"We   are   going   on   quietly  at  home. 

Little  K — ^,  by  a  sudden  determination,  is  gone  into 
Norfolk.  My  love  and  respect  for  your  dear,  most  dear 
mother,  has  prevailed  to  gain  my  consent ;  otherwise  I 
much  prefer  a  mother's  and  elder  sister's  roof,  for  female 
education,  to  any  school.  But  I  leave  this  affair  in  God's 
hands,  and  hope  he  will  overrule  it  for  the  best.  I  have 
long  thought  that  though  a  good  school  is  better  than  a 
bad  home,  a  good  home  is  the  best  of  schools.     Children 


38  JiMUSEMENTS    FOR 

are  for  the  most  part  educated  in  temper  and  habits  of 
all  kinds,  not  by  governesses,  but  bj  companions,  and 
here  all  is  contingency.  But  so  mucb  of  my  own  liappi-  * 
ness  consists  in  making  your  dear  mamma  happy,  that  I 
wave  my  objection  to  a  temporary  alienation  from  the 
parental  roof,  and  pray  God  it  may  not  injure  K — 's 
spiritual  welfare.  Some  may  think  I  am  too  fond  of 
seeing  my  children  around  me ;  if  it  be  a  weakness,  I 
must  plead  guilty  to  it :  from  their  infancy  I  have  looked 
forward,  as  far  as  providental  circumstances  would  permit, 
to  find  comfort,  support,  and  companionship  in  my 
children.  My  middle,  and  if  spared,  my  old  age,  may 
much  require  it ;  and  if  my  life  be  short,  can  any  wonder 
that  I  should  like  to  s'ee  and  know  much  of  them  while 
I  remain  in  this  world.  It  has  ever  been  my  heart's 
desire  and  prayer,  to  give  them  a  useful,  happy,  exem- 
plary home :  were  I  to  fail  here,  life  would  indeed  become 
a  blank  to  me.  I  would  strive  "  to  roll  the  troublous 
trial  on  God,"  but  I  should  deeply  mourn  in  secret. 
Sons  must  in  due  season  go  forth  into  a  wanton  and 
wicked  world  to  seek  their  bread ;  but  daughters,  while 
unmarried,  are  better  calculated  to  become  comforters 
and  companions  to  their  parents,  as  they  go  down  to  the 

vale  of  years 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  E." 

A  happy  home  greatly  depends  on  the  recreations  and 
amusements  which  are  provided  for  young  people.  It  is 
no  small  difficulty  to  give  a  useful  direction  to  their  play- 
hours  ;  little  more  has  been  contemplated  in  the  gambols 
of  youth  than  the  health  and  activity  of  their  bodies,  and 
the  refreshment  of  their  spirits :  it  is  well  when  these 
objects  can  be  attained  without  the  indulgence  of  sinful 
tempers ;  but  youthful  sports  have  often  proved  the  nur- 
sery  of  pride,    ambition,    and   contention.       In    public 


LEISURE    HOURS.  89 

Bchools  these  evils  liave  been  encouraged,  or  at  least 
deemed  unavoidable.  The  seed  of  revenge  in  manhood 
has  been  planted  in  hoyish  violence,  and  the  unheeded 
acts  of  oppression  by  the  elder  boys  towards  their  juniors, 
have  trained  them  to  tyranny  in  riper  years.  Private 
education  affords  greater  facilities  for  checking  these 
evils ;  but  the  w^nt  of  the  stimulus  supplied  by  numbers 
is  apt  to  render  the  pastime  uninteresting,  and  home 
distasteful. 

Mr.  E.  was  alive  to  these  inconveniences  and  endea- 
voured, by  a  succession  and  variety  of  recreations,  to 
employ  the  leisure  hours  to  advantage.  He  had  recourse 
to  what  was  beautiful  in  nature  or  ingenious  in  art  or 
science :  and  when  abroad  he  collected  materials  to  gratify 
curiosity.  He  fitted  up  his  museum,  his  auctarium  and 
his  library,  with  specimens  of  mineralogy,  instruments  for 
experimental  philosophy,  and  interesting  curiosities  from 
every  part  of  the  world ;  he  had  his  magic  lantern  to 
exhibit  phantasmagoria,  and  teach  natural  history:  to 
display  picturesque  beauty,  and  scenes  and  objects  far- 
famed  in  different  countries ;  his  various  microscopes  for 
examining  the  minutiae  of  plants  and  animals,  his  tele- 
scope for  tracing  planetary  revolutions  and  appearances ; 
his  air-pump  and  other  machines  for  illustrating  and 
explaining  the  principles  of  pneumatics  and  electricity ; 
authors  of  every  country  who  treated  on  the  improve 
ments  connected  with  modern  science ;  whatever,  in  short, 
could  store  the  mind  with  ideas,  or  interest  and  improve 
the  heart.  When  he  travelled  he  kept  up  a  correspond- 
ence with  his  family,  and  narrated  to  them  the  persons, 
places,  and  adventures  of  his  progress.  On  his  return 
he  enlivened  many  a  leisure  hour  by  larger  details  of  all 
that  he  had  observed  to  amuse  and  improve. 

It  was  a  sight  truly  gratifying  to  witness  the  affec- 
tionate parent  in  the  professor's  chair,  with  a  mind  richly 
stored,  and  a  countenance  beaming  with  kindness,  fixing 


40  AMUSEMENTS    FOB 

the  attention  of  Ms  youthful  auditors,  on  subjects  abstruse 
in  their  character,  but  rendered  interesting  and  intelligible 
to  the  happy  group  which  surrounded  him. 

Music  was  another  source  of  domestic  amusement  in 
which  Mr.  E.  excelled,  being  both  a  good  composer,  and 
no  mean  performer.  Many  of  his  children  played  on 
some  instrument,  and  occasionally  joined  their  father  in 
a  "concert  of  sweet  sounds."  He  wished  to  exclude 
what  was  frivolous  or  trifling  in  this  noble  art,  and 
delighted  in  the  grave  full-toned  harmony,  as  best  calcu- 
lated to  inspire  corresponding  emotions. 

He  encouraged  the  use  of  the  pencil,  and  was  very 
anxious  that  his  daughters  should  cultivate  their  taste 
for  drawing. 

'As  I  have  journeyed  along,'  he  writes  to  one  of  his 
children,  'I  have  often  wished  I  had  the  pencil  of  a 
ready  draughtsman,  that  I  might  bring  home  a  bundle 
of  sketches  of  landscapes,  to  revive  recollections  and 
render  natural  scenery  permanent  to  the  imagination. 
When  I  find  that  this  cannot  be,  I  next  wish  that  one  or 
more  of  my  dear  children  might  acquire  a  talent  of  this 
kind,  and  be  a  sort  of  right  hand  to  fulfil  my  wishes  in 
that  way.  Perhaps  some  day  you  will  be  that  right 
hand  to  me.  Loving  landscape  scenery  as  I  do,  my 
grand  object  to  see  God  in  it ;  to  trace  him  in  every  part 
of  his  works :  to  acknowledge  his  goodness  in  them,  and 
to  collect  arguments  from  them  to  endear  the  character 
of  Christ,  'by  whom,'  the  Scripture  says,  'all  things 
were  made,  and  without  whom  was  not  any  thing  made 
that  was  made.'  To  this  end  I  wish  drawing  to  be  culti- 
vated. I  mourn  over  pride  and  vanity,  and  if  accom- 
plishments are  only  acquired  to  gratify  these  unholy 
affections,  I  should  wish  them  banished.  Nay,  mere 
innocent  pleasure  is  not  a  sufficient  motive ;  the  glory  of 
God  must  be  the  end  and  aim  of  every  arttainment,  or 


LEISUEEHOUES.  41 

else  it  is  a  waste  of  time^  and  an  abuse  of  talent.  Pencils, 
paint;  Indian  ink^  and  Indian-rnbber,  may  be  devoted  to 
the  honour  of  him  who  bestows  the  power  of  combining 
their  respective  properties,  so  as  to  produce  the  simili- 
tudes of  his  works.  I  am  no  less  anxious  about  the 
cultivation  of  musical  talents;  there  is,  however,  more 
danger  of  music  being  abused  than  drawing :  the  inunda- 
tion of  frivolity,  and  the  sometimes  unsuspected  associa- 
tions of  a  carnal  and  worldly  nature,  which  mingle  with 
musical  compositions  of  a  modern  and  fashionable  cast, 
often  distress  and  hurt  me.  The  fascinations  of  the  ball- 
room, the  corruptions  of  the  theatre  and  opera-house,  too 
often  creep  into  the  quiet  pianoforte  corner  of  young 
people.  Even  instrumental  music,  with  its  appendages 
of  waltzes,  dances,  and  love-sick  airs,  has  often  a  ten- 
dency to  familiarize  the  young  mind  with  subjects 
injurious  to  its  welfare.  The  sober  dignity  of  genuine 
instrumental  music  is  nearly  lost  in  the  substitution  of 
modern  trick  and  blandishment:  but  if  instrumental 
music  be  thus  abused,  how  much  more  so  vocal :  here 
the  art  and  science  of  music  opens  its  richest  stores  of 
opportunity  for  gloryfying  God  and  edifying  man :  here 
all  the  charms,  and  all  the  contrivances  of  this  sublime 
faculty,  present  innumerable  means  of  spiritualizing  the 
heart,  gratifying  the  ear,  exalting  the  understanding,  and 
improving  the  affections :  but  here,  alas  I  the  world,  the 
flesh,  and  the  devil  have  grasped  the  powers  of  the 
musical  art  in  too  many  instances,  and  sacrificed  them 
all  to  Dagan  and  Baal,  to  vice  and  folly,  to  levity  and 
wantonness,  to  fascination  and  delusion.  Love  songs, 
drinking  songs,  vice-provoking  songs,  and  many  other 
sorts  of  songs,  resound  from  house  to  house  in  public 
and  private,  and  prove  to  demonstration  the  idols  which 
men  and  even  women  serve,  and  consequently  "  whose 
they  are."  What  a  profanation  of  a  holy  art !  what  a 
degradation  of  a  noble  science!     I  am  persuaded  that 

4* 


42       AMUSEMENTS     FOR     LEISURE     HOURS. 

music  is  designed  to  prepare  for  heaven ;  to  educate  for 
the  choral  enjoyment  of  paradise ;  to  form  the  mind  to 
virtue  and  devotion,  and  to  charm  away  evil,  and 
sanctify  the  heart  to  God.  A  Christian  musician  is  one 
who  has  a  harp  in  his  affections,  which  he  daily  tunes 
to  the  notes  of  the  angelic  host,  and  with  which,  he  makes 
melody  in  his  heart  to  the  Lord.  Does  he  strike  the 
chord-  with  his  hands  ?  it  is  to  '  bid  lute  and  harp  to 
awake  to  the  glory  of  God.'  The  hand,  the  tongue,  and 
the  ear,  form  a  kind  of  triple  chord  not  to  be  broken. 

Bring  music,  my  beloved  F ,  to  this  test,  and  your 

vocal  hours  will  not  be  spent  in  vain.  The  instructions 
of  your  childhood  will  supply  you  through  life  with  a 
fountain  of  pleasures,  drawn  from  the  true  source  of 
legitimate  recreation.  Sing  the  songs  of  Zion,  and 
amidst  the  vibrations  of  the  air  may  true  prayer  and 
praise  ascend  to  heaven,  and  enter  into  the  ears  of  the 
Lord  God  of  your  salvation ;  and  then  will  the  harmo- 
nious combination  be  complete.  Pray  for  grace  to  guide 
you  in  all  your  duties,  that  you  may  comfort,  assist,  and 
strengthen  your  invaluable  mother  in  all  her  cares  and 
labours,  by  your  dutiful,  diligent,  and  affectionate  regard 
to  her  precepts,  example,  and  wishes.  May  your  brothers 
in  particular  learn  from  you,  and  you  from  Christ,  what 
Christian  meekness,  activity,  and  sobriety  mean.  Watch 
over  them  with  a  sister's  heart  and  a  sister's  prayers,  and 
they  will  be  heard  and  answered.  Go  to  school  again 
and  again.  Whither  ?  To  what  school,  papa  ?  To  the 
school  of  Christ,  where  the  Great  Instructor  waits  to 
teach  and  bless  you.  Go  thither,  my  child,  and  carry 
your  sins,  and  your  cares,  and  your  weaknesses  and  your 
errors,  and  your  affections  and  your  hopes,  and  your 
fears  and  your  resolutions,  and  your  friends,  and  your 
brothers,  and  your  sisters,  and  your  mother,  and 
Your  own  true  loving  father, 

Legh  Kichmond." 


THEKALEIDESCOPE.  43 

It  was  a  maxim  with  Mr.  Eiclimond,  that  the  mind 
needed  not  idleness  or  frivolity  to  restore  its  energies,  or 
fit  it  for  graver  studies ;  but  might  always  find  a  suf&- 
cient  relaxation  in  variety :  and  his  success  in  associating 
some  useful  pursuit  with  the  recreations  of  his  young 
people,  proves  the  correctness  of  his  judgment  in  this 
respect. 

The  principal  characteristic,  however,  of  his  mode  of 
education,  was  the  piety  infused  into  every  employment 
or  pleasure.  Whether  in  the  field  or  in  the  museum,— 
whether  he  examined  what  was  beautiful  to  the  eye,-  or 
indulged  in  what  was  harmonious  to  the  ear, —  whethei 
he  made  an  experiment  or  related  an  event, — everything 
was  connected,  in  his  own  mind  and  in  that  of  his  child- 
ren, with  him  who  '^giveth  all  things  richly  to  enjoy;  " 
—  everything  afforded  him  an  illustration  of  some  reli- 
gious truth,  or  was  employed  to  inspire  some  devout 
affection.  The  connection  of  religion  with  science  was 
a  favourite  topic,  on  which  he  used  to  enlarge  with  great 
satisfaction.  His  happy  manner,  in  combining  instruc- 
tion with  amusement,  appears  from  the  two  following 
specimens.  The  first  of  these  is  a  meditation  on  the 
wonders  of  the  kaleidescope,  and  which  he  presented  to 

his  daughter  F ,  with  a  view  to  engage  her  attention 

to  this  simple  and  elegant  instrument.     ^'See,  my  dear 

F ,  what  this  new  discovery,  which  has  afforded  us  so 

much  amusement,  may  do  to   improve  our  heads  and 
heart. 

"I  took  up  my  kaleidescope,  and  as  I  viewed  with 
delight  the  extraordinary  succession  of  beautiful  images 
which  it  presented  to  my  sight,  I  was  struck, 

"  1.  AVith  the  singular  phenomenon  of  perfect  order 
being  invariably  and  constantly  produced  out  of  perfect 
disorder, —  so  that  as,  by  magical  influence,  confusion, 
and  irregularity  seemed  to  become  the  prolific  parents  of 
symmetry  and  beauty. 


44  THE     KALEIDESCOPE. 

"2.  It  occurred  to  me,  tliat  the  universality  of  its 
adoption  would  imperceptibly  lead  to  the  cultivation  of 
the  principles  of  taste,  elegance,  and  beauty,  through  the 
whole  of  the  present  and  following  generations ;  and  that 
from  the  philosopher  and  artist,  down  to  the  poorest 
child  in  the  community. 

"  3.  I  admired  the  effect  produced  by  new  and  varied 
combinations  of  colours  as  well  as  forms.  The  analysis 
of  this  kind  of  arrangement  is  here  attended  with  unpre- 
cedented facility  and  advantage.  The  artist,  the  philos- 
opher, the  admirer,  both  of  the  works  of  nature  and  of 
art,  may  here  find  a  source  of  amusement  almost  peculiar 
to  the  use  of  this  instrument. 

"  4.  I  saw  a  vast  accession  to  the  sources  of  inven- 
tion, in  its  application  to  the  elegant  arts  and  manufac- 
tures, and  the  consequent  growth  of  a  more  polished  and 
highly-cultivated  state  of  habits,  manners,  and  refinement 
in  both. 

''5.  I  mused  with  delight  on  the  powers  and  effects 
of  geometrical  arrangement  and  combination,  so  easily 
exhibited  to  the  eye,  and  so  characteristic  of  the  optical 
principle  on  which  the  instrument  is  constructed. 

''  6.  I  was  struck  with  the  idea  of  infinite  variety, — 
more  strikingly  demonstrated  to  the  eye  than  by  any 
former  experiment;  Here  the  sublime  mingles  with  the 
beautiful. 

".  7.  I  perceived  a  kind  of  visible  music.  The  com- 
bination of  form  and  colour  produced  harmony,  their 
succession  melody ;  thus  what  an  organ  or  piano-forte  is 
to  the  ear,  the  kaleidescope  is  to  tlie  eye.  I  was  delighted 
with  this  analogy  between  the  senses,  as  exercised  in  this 
interesting  experiment. 

"  8.  I  thought  that  God  was  very  good  to  afford  and 
permit  so  innocent  and  gratifying  a  source  of  recreation 
to  all  ranks  of  my  fellow-countrymen ;  a  recreation  aris- 
ing partly  from  the  exhibition  of  so  much  loveliness  to 


THE     KALEIDESGOPE.  45 

that  sense  of  siglit  wliicli  lie  has  formed,  and  partly  from 
the  exercise  of  the  mental  faculties  of  reason  and  taste 
in  meditating  upon  the  beautiful  vision. 

"I  laid  my  kaleidescope  down,  and  thought  of  the 
adorable  attributes  of  him  from  whom  all  blessings, 
earthly  and  heavenly,  flow. 

"  I  took  up  my  kaleidescope  again,  and  was  led  in  the 
contemplation  of  its  use  and  beauties,  to  think, 

^'  1.  Here  I  am  to  see,  on  the  one  hand,  the  ruin  and 
disorder  of  human  nature;  and  on  the  other,  the  mar- 
vellous influence  of  grace  in  producing  out  of  these 
materials,  order,  beauty,  and  restoration. 

"  2.  My  instrument  I  compared  to  a  telescope-glass, 
which  faith  and  hope  put  into  my  hand; — I  saw  through 
one  end  of  the  tube,  the  world,  and  our  life  in  it,  a  scene 
of  confusion  and  tribulation;  strange  revolutions  and 
mysterious  complexities.  Through  the  other,  I  beheld 
promised  delights,  heavenly  realities,  beauty  for  ashes, 
and  the  wilderness  blooming  like  a  rose.  I  took  the 
hint,  and  saAV  reasons  for  resignation,  contentment,  and 
patient  waiting  for  the  glory  that  shall  be  revealed. 

''3.  I  observed,  as  I  gently  turned  my  instrument 
round,  how  quickly  the  pleasures  of  sense  vanished. 
The  phantom  which  delighted  me  but  a  moment  before 
was  gone — for  ever  gone — irrecoverably  lost !  Let  me 
not,  then,  said  I,  set  my  heart  on  that  which  so  quickly 
taketh  wing  and  fleeth  away.  Such  is  the  world  and  its 
delights. 

"  4.  But  again  as  I  looked,  new  beauties  constantly 
succeeded  those  which  had  passed  away.  Now  I  thought, 
how  does  the  Lord  multiply  his  mercies  in  constant 
variety  and  succession.  In  the  succession  of  beautiful 
configurations  in  my  glass,  is  an  emblem  of  the  endless 
goodness  of  my  God,  whose  tender  mercies  are  over  all 
his  works. 

'^  5.    In  this  chaos  of  confusion,  thus  made  to  produce 


4o  THE     KALEIDESCOPE. 

beauty  and  order,  I  seem  to  see  a  representation  of  the 
primitive  work  of  the  Great '  Creator,  who,  when  the 
earth  was  without  form,  and  void,  sent  forth  his  Spirit, 
and  therewith  created  an  universe  in  all  its  original 
perfection. 

"  6.  When  I  look  at  my  little  fragments  of  glass  and 
stones,  and  observe  how,  from  such  apparently  despi- 
cable materials,  such  beauty  and  symmetry  arise,  I  learn 
not  to  despise  the  day  of  small  things,  and  to  count 
nothing  unworthy  of  my  notice.  I  learn  how  God  has 
chosen  the  foolish  things  of  this  world,  to  confound  the 
wise,  and  base  things  of  this  world,  and  things  which 
are  despised  hath  God  chosen ;  yea,  and  things  which  are 
not,  to  bring  to  nought  things  that  are,  that  no  flesh 
should  glory  in  his  presence. 

''  I  concluded  by  reflecting,  how  the  works  of  creation, 
the  principles  of  natural  philosophy,  the  discoveries  of 
science,  and  the  ingenuities  of  art,  illustrate  and  demon- 
strate the  attributes  of  the  God  of  redemption.  My 
kaleidescope  shows  me,  in  the  harmony  of  its  colours, 
the  union  of  his  excellences;  in  the  symmetry  of  its 
forms,  his  wisdom ;  in  the  invariable  efiicacy  of  its 
principles,  his  faithfulness;  in  the  endless  diversity  of 
its  figures,  his  infinity ;  in  the  simplicity  of  its  essential 
character,  his  unity ;  in  its  faculty  of  producing  novelty, 
his  power ;  in  its  ability  to  delight,  his  goodness ;  and  in 
its  aflbrding  me  this  opportunity  of  so  seeing  him  in  it, 
his  love. 

*'  I  laid  down  my  kaleidescope,  that  I  might  praise  and 
adore  the  author  of  all  my  mercies." 

The  next  article  was  composed  by  Mr.  Richmond  with 
the  view  of  fixing  the  solar  system  in  the  memory ;  for 
which  purpose  he  made  use  of  verse :  and  as  it  may  be 
a  useful  technica  mcmoria  to  other  children,  it  is  here  pre- 
sented to  them. 


T  11  E     K  A  L  E  I  D  E  S  C  O  P  E.  4? 

In  tliis  instance,  also,  it  may  be  observed,  Iioav  steadily 
he  kept  in  view  his  ulterior  design,  of  raising  tlie  mind 
from  the  visible  heavens  to  the  knowledge  and  love  of 
Him  whom  the  heaven  of  heavens  cannot  contain,  but 
whose  eternal  power  and  godhead,  whose  majesty,  wisdom, 
and  goodness,  shine  forth  in  the  things  that  he  has  made. 

He  used  frequently  to  repeat,  ''  An  undevout  astro- 
nomer is  mad."  He  would  observe,  "  Astronomy  fills 
the  mind  with  the  most  elevated  conceptions  of  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  Deity ;  and  sinks  us  down  and  humbles 
us  to  the  dust,  with  a  sense  of  our  own  utter  insignifi- 
cance; sensations  mingled  with  others  of  a  sweet  and 
tender  character  in  the  survey  of  His  benevolence. 

"  Creation  was  Adam's  library ;  God  bid  him  read  the 
interesting  volumes  of  his  works,  which  were  designed 
to  make  known  the  divine  character.  To  gratify  curiosity 
only,  in  the  study  of  the '  creatures,  is  to  lose  sight  of 
their  end  in  relation  to  man.  I  would  have  my  dear 
children  see  Grod  in  every  thing.  It  is  not  merely  a 
transitory  emotion  I  wish  to  raise  in  their  minds,  but  a 
habit  of  referring,  ^in  all  they  see,  to  their  Maker  with 
delight  and  reverence.  I  will  never  consent  to  shut  Grod 
out  of  his  own  universe,  or  divorce  science  and  religion, 
which  he  has  joined  together ;  and  which  ought  to  dwell 
with  each  other  in  unity  and  love.'^ 

*  In  these  remarks  I  perfectly  concur.  What,  indeed,  is  religion  but  a 
knowledge  of  God,  with  an  enjoyment  of  him  in  the  affections  of  the  heart? 
The  Greeks  use  a  term  (evSePeia)  to  describe  it,  which  signifies  a  becoming 
reverence.  The  Latins  employ  another  word  (religlo,  a  re  et  ligo)  still  moro 
descriptive  of  its  character,  which  means  a  re-uniting  of  a  part  to  its  whole. 
Man  has  been  torn  as  it  were,  from  God  by  his  apostasy,—  a  creature  separate 
from  the  Creator.  The  business  of  religion,  and  of  all  religious  education,  is 
to  bring  man  back  to  God,  in  his  thoughts,  affections,  aims  and  pursuiio;  so 
that  spiritually  as  well  as  naturally,  he  may  live  and  move,  and  have  his  being 
in  God.  Science,  when  employed  as  the  handmaid  of  religion,  will  be  found  a 
most  useful  auxiliary;  and  literature  of  every  kind,  especially  such  as  is  con- 
nected with  the  works  or  ways  of  the  Deity,  if  pursued  in  the  spirit  of  piety, 


48  THE    SOLAK    SYSTEM. 

THE     SOLAE     SYSTEM. 

As  we  looked  at  the  skies,  my  dear  children,  last  nightj 
And  their  beauties  and  wonders  attracted  our  sight ; 
Of  explaining  their  nature  you  set  me  the  task, 
So  I'll  try  to  afford  the  instruction  you  ask. 

T  H  E    s  u  N. 

In  the  midst  of  our  system  the  Sun  takes  his  place, 

And  brilliantly  shines  through  the  regions  of  space ; 

He  illumines  the  planets,  and  by  his  attraction 

Preserves  all  their  motions  in  regular  action. 

He  turns  round  his  axis  in  twenty-five  days, 

While  his  light  ne'er  decreases,  his  heat  ne'er  decays  : 

His  diameter  viewed  with  the  nicest  attention. 

Proves  near  nine  hundred  thousand  miles  in  dimension; 

Around  this  vast  orb  revolutions  are  seen, 

Of  the  planets  eleven,  with  their  moons,  just  eighteen. 

MERCURY. 

First  Mercury  moves  mid  the  bright  solar  rays, 
Completing  his  orbit  in  eighty-eight  days  ; 
The  breadth  of  his  disk  at  three  thousand  is  given, 
The  distance,  of  millions  of  miles,  thirty-seven 


Next  Yenus  advances,  with  radiant  smiles. 
From  the  sun  distant  sixty-nine  millions  of  miles  ; 
She  revolves  round  her  centre  in  months  about  eight, 
And  compared  with  our  earth  she  in  size  is  as  great: 
In  beauty  resplendent  she  shines  from  afar, 
And  gladdens  the  eye  as  a  morn  or  eve  star. 

THE    EARTH. 

Amidst  this  grand  range  of  celestial  pavilions. 
Next  comes  at  a  distance  of  ninety-five  millions. 
The  globe  of  the  Earth,  with* its  faithful  attendant, 

hai  a  tendency  to  improve  and  sanctify  the  heart.  With  this  view  Mr.  Rich, 
mond  encouraged  his  children  to  study  diligmtly,  that  they  might  lovo  and  serve 
Go^  fervpntly. 


THE     SOLAR     SYSTEM.  49 

Both  alike  on  the  sun's  gravitation  dependent, 
Earth  revolves,  as  enlightened  by  Sol's  mighty  blaze, 
In  three  hundred  and  sixty  and  five  of  our  days ; 
Round  her  axis  impelled  by  omnipotent  power, 
She  turns  and  returns  by  the  twenty-fourth  hour. 
Near  eight  thousand  miles  is  the  breadth  of  her  span. 
And  thus  she  was  formed  for  the  dwelling  of  man : 
As  the  sun  rules  by  day,  so  the  moon  rules  by  night. 
Each  affording  in  turn  their  magnificent  light. 

THE    MOON. 

The  Moon's  time  in  her  path,  as  the  earth  she  moves  round, 

Just  twenty-nine  days  and  a  half  will  be  found : 

From  the  earth  she  is  distant,  although  she  seems  near, 

Twenty-four  times  ten  thousand  of  miles  it  is  clear. 

By  the  light  of  the  sun  her  fair  face  is  adorned, 

While  she  sometimes  is  gibbous  and  sometimes  is  horned. 

When  at  full  she's  quite  round,  when  new  she's  not  seen. 

But  whenever  she  shines,  is  of  night  the  gay  queen : 

Of  high  hills  and  deep  vales  she  has  plentiful  store, 

And  her  breadth  of  our  miles  is  two  thousand  and  more. 

By  his  glass,  the  astronomer  clearly  discerns 

In  a  month  round  her  axis  she  statedly  turns  : 

Thus  the  earth  and  the  moon  are  impelled  by  a  force. 

Which  preserves  all  their  motions  in  annual  course. 

MARS. 

Next  revolving  amidst  the  bright  region  of  stars. 
We  behold  in  his  orbit  the  ruddy-faced  Mars. 
He  appears  to  move  on  without  lunar  assistance. 
At  a  hundred  and  forty-four  millions  of  distance. 
While  twenty-four  hours,  like  our  own,  make  his  day, 
Near  two  years  will  accomplish  his  annual  way  j 
His  diameter  measures  four  thousand  and  two. 
And  his  radiance  is  marked  by  his  roseate  hue. 

THE    ASTEROIDS. 

Four  Planets  come  next  of  diminutive  size. 

Too  small,  without  aid,  to  be  seen  with  our  eyes  : 

But  the  telescope  proves  of  what  nature  they  are, 

And  discovers  their  motions  as  viewed  from  afar, 
5 


50  T  H  E    S  O  L  A  R    S  Y  S  T  E  M. 

In  order  comes  Vesta,  then  Juno,  then  Ceres, 
Whose  orbit  to  Pallas  exceedingly  near  is  j 
But  these  Asteroids  no  more  shall  absorb 
The  attention  now  due  unto  Jupiter's  orb. 

JUPITER, 

Enlightened  by  Sol  with  refulgence  he  smiles. 
Though  distant  near  five  hundred  millions  of  miles  S 
His  splendour  the  heavens  is  ever  adorning, 
As  the  jewel  of  eve,  or  the  herald  of  morning, 
His  diameter  ninety-one  thousand  is  found, 
He  in  less  than  ten  hours  his  own  axis  turns  round  : 
His  magnificent  globe,  as  it  plainly  appears. 
Revolves  round  the  sun  in  near  twelve  of  our  years  J 
Cloudy  belts  cross  his  surface  in  parallel  lines, 
Yet  through  them  the  planet  with  brilliancy  shines. 
His  constant  companions,  to  cheer  the  dark  night, 
Four  satellites  lend  him  their  regular  light : 
That  they  truly  revolve,  by  our  glasses  is  seen, 
In  their  periods  or  months  from  two  days  to  sixteen. 

SATURN. 

Now  far  beyond  Jupiter  on  we  advance. 

And  find  a  whole  system  of  worlds  at  a  glance. 

Seven  moons  around  Saturn  transcendently  shine. 

Preserved  in  their  orbit  by  impulse  divine. 

Nine  hundred  of  millions  from  Sol  he 's  removed, 

So  their  nightly  assistance  is  constantly  proved. 

When  measured,  the  breadth  of  the  planet  is  great, 

In  thousands  of  miles  it  is  seventy  and  eight : 

Twenty-nine  and  a  half  of  our  years  must  be  run 

Ere  Saturn  his  journey  performs  round  the  sun  : 

In  fourteen  to  twelve  hours  the  astronomers  say, 

The  planet's  rotation  completes  his  own  day : 

But  that  which  most  singular  makes  it  appear. 

Is  two  luminous  rings  which  encompass  his  sphere  j 

It  would  seem  that  his  splendour  of  radiance  bound  him 

As  detached  from  his  orb  they  receive  both  around  him. 

Heaven  does  not  present  a  more  beautiful  sight 

Than  this  planet,  his  rings,  and  his  moons,  seen  at  night. 


THE     SOLAR    SYSTEM.  51 

URAXUS,     HEUSCHEL,     ORGEORGIUM     SID  US. 

But,  as  farther  we  penetrate  heavenly  regions, 

When  the  stars  are  abounding  in  multiplied  legions, 

We  meet  with  a  planet  of  magnitude  vast, 

Which  of  those  yet  discovered  is  reckoned  the  last. 

Call  it  Uranus,  Herschel,  or  Georgium  Sidus, 

A  sight  of  his  disc  without  help  is  denied  us. 

But  when  brought  by  the  aid  of  the  telescope  near 

His  surface  is  manifest,  beauteous  and  clear. 

Eighteen  hundred  millions  removed  from  the  sun, 

It  is  eighty-four  years  ere  its  orbit  is  run, 

Thirty-four  thousand  miles  in  his  breadth  'tis  maintained, 

Of  his  motions  diurnal  no  knowledge  is  gained. 

Six  bright  beaming  moons  shed  their  rays  o'er  his  night. 

Like  himself,  from  the  sun,  all  deriving  their  light. 

THE     COMETS. 

But  still  we  pursue  astronomical  song, 

As  not  planets  alone  to  our  system  belong. 

Many  hundreds  of  comets,  in  orbits  most  strange. 

By  solar  attraction  obediently  range, 

With  their  fringes  of  air,  their  long  fiery  tails. 

Whenever  they  're  seen  admiration  prevails  : 

But  their  lengthened  elliptical  paths  in  the  sky 

The  powers  of  astronomy  seem  to  defy. 

So  short  is  their  stay,  they  escape  observation 

On  which  we  can  ground  a  correct  calculation. 

They've  so  come  and  so  gone,  so  appeared  and  so  vanished, 

That  successful  prediction  they  've  hitherto  banished. 

CONCLUSION. 

To  the  system  named  Solar,  I  call  your  attention, 

Of  the  stars  that  are  fixed  I  shall  now  wave  the  mention, 

But  while  their  instruction  I  've  sought  to  impart, 

I've  wished  to  inspire  the  best  thoughts  in  your  heart. 

With  deep  veneration,  oh  lift  up  your  eyes. 

And  contemplate  these  works  of  the  God  of  the  skies : 

He  formed  them,  he  governs,  he  guides  every  motion, 

And  by  them  he  summons  each  soul  to  devotion. 

The  firmament  sheweth  the  work  of  his  hand, 

Such  wisdom  and  power  adoration  command. 


52  THE     SOLAR     SYSTEM. 

Each  planet  revolves,  and  each  comet  appears, 
To  exalt  the  great  God  of  our  days  and  our  years. 
Not  a  star  but  its  lustre  shall  loudly  proclaim 
The  magnificent  praise  of  his  excellent  name. 
Join  the  chorus  above,  and  let  glory  be  given 
To  Him  that  directs  both  on  earth  and  in  heaven. 

Many  advantages  were  obtained  bj  tlie  introduction 
of  popular  science  into  my  friend's  family  circle  as  an 
amusement ;  a  dislike  of  low  and  vulgar  pursuits  was 
inspired;  an  occupation  found  for  every  moment;  and 
materials  procured  for  useful  conversation  in  tbeir  private 
intercourse;  full  employment  and  improving  pursuits 
are  favourable  to  morality  and  religion ;  nor  is  it  neces- 
sary to  allow  cbildren,  even  in  their  pastimes,  to  be  more 
cliildisii  than  a  childish  age  requires.  The  notion  is 
injurious  to  them,  that  a  waste  of  time  is  felicity,  and  its 
profitable  employment  an  ungrateful  necessity.  Nor  can 
eminence  be  expected  in  any  thing  in  which  the  heart  is 
not  engaged.  It  should  therefore  be  the  constant  effort 
of  a  teacher  to  interest  while  he  instructs,  and  to  bring 
the  hour  of  recreation  into  unison  with  that  of  the  school- 
room, making  it  subservient  to  it.  It  was  my  friend's 
anxious  desire  and-  sedulous  endeavour  to  get  the  heart 
on  the  side  of  truth,  to  infuse  an  innocent  prepossession 
in  its  favour,  and  make  duty  enjoyment.  It  was  often 
said  by  the  members  of  his  family :  ''  We  love  religion, 
because  we  see  papa  so  lovely  and  happy  under  its 
influence  1 " 


AMUSEMENTS.  53 


CHAPTER   III. 

*  A  man's  nature  runs  either  to  herbs  or  weeds,  therefore  let  him  seasonably 
water  the  one  and  destroy  the  other.'— Bacon. 

With  so  many  resources  of  innocent  and  improving 
amusement;  Mr.  R's.  young  people  felt  no  regret  at  the 
interdict  which  their  father  placed  on  all  games  of 
chance ;  on  fishing,  field-sports,  dancing ;  the  theatre, 
oratorios,  and  other  sources  of  gratification,  which  he 
thought  to  be  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  of  religion ; 
connected  with  much  evil ;  and  a  preparation  for  it.  I 
have  heard  him  say,  'Even  where  there  is  no  positive 
evil,  I  think  it  important  to  draw  a  strong  line  of  demar- 
cation between  the  church  and  the  world.  The  mixed 
multitude  set  the  Israelites  a  lusting  after  the  flesh-pots 
of  Egypt :  and  evil  communications  never  fail  to  corrupt 
good  manners.  There  may  be  no  sin  in  dancing,  but  it 
is  a  preparation  for  appearing  hereafter  where  I  think 
there  is  scarcely  anything  else.  Cards  are  a  waste  of 
time  which  may  be  much  better  employed ;  and  they  are 
too  nearly  allied  to  the  gaming-table,  which  fills  me  with 
,  horror.  To  field-sports  I  have  a  still  more  decided  objec- 
tion :  they  are  defended  on  the  ground  of  promoting 
health ;  but  whatever  benefit  the  body  may  receive,  it  is 
at  the  expense  of  the  soul.  I  know  not  on  what  prin- 
ciples a  man  can  justify  the  taking  away  of  life  for  his 
amusement.  God  allows  him  to  kill  animals  for  food,  or 
to  destroy  them  when  they  prove  an  annoyance  to  him; 
but  I  can  find  no  authority  in  the  Bible  for  deriving 
enjoyment  from  the  infliction  of  a  cruel  death ;  -  it  is 
right  founded  on  might  —  a  mere  act  of  tyranny,  and  an 
abuse  of  power.     The  man  who  should  whip  a  beast  to 

5* 


54  AMUSEMENTS. 

death,  or  cut  him  up  alive  like  an  Abyssinian  savage, 
would  be  deemed  a  monster;  yet  the  same  man  may 
hunt  to  death,  and  halloo,  and  exult  with  delight,  while 
his  dogs  are  tearing  to  pieces  a  defenceless  animal,  and 
yet  be  considered  a  gentleman  and  a  Christian.  Then 
there  are  the  after  events  of  the  day!  —  and  surely  to 
spend  five  or  six  hours  in  the  evening  commending  the 
bark  of  a  cur,  or  discanting  on  the  endeavours  of  a  fox 
to  elude  his  pursuers,  is  unworthy  an  intelligent  being, 
even  if  there  were  no  worse  accompaniments. 

I  asked  him  if  he  thought  shooting  equally  objection- 
able. He  replied :  shooting  may  not  issue  in  all  the 
results  of  hunting;  but  I  should  be  miserable  all  the 
while  my  boys  were  scampering  over  the  fields  with  a 
gun.  Sad  accidents  are  continually  occurring  from 
letting  young  people  carry  fire-arms;  but  my  great 
objection  to  all  these  sports  is  the  same ;  I  cannot  think 
it  right  to  seek  gratification  in  inflicting  suffering  and 
death.  I  ^now  that  God  has  given  us  the  creatures  for 
our  sustenance,  and  it  is  lawful  to  use  them  to  this  end ; 
but  with  my  views  and  principles,  I  find  it  hard  to  con- 
ceive a  right-minded  man  feeling  pleasure  while  he 
inflicts  pain.  He  would  rather  be  disposed  to  say  with 
an  old  writer,  'I  can  never  eat  my  dinner  when  I 
remember  that  I  am  living  by  the  death  of  a  creature 
which  my  sin  has  destroyed.'  As  for  exercise,  we  might 
surely  find  other  pursuits  for  this  purpose.  There 
appears  to  me  the  same  delusion  in  the  argument  which 
has  sometimes  been  employed  to  defend  shooting,  as  in 
that  which  is  urged  by  card-players, — we  must  have  a 
stake,  however  small,  or  we  shaft  lose  all  interest  in  the 
game.  Surely  we  might  walk  as  far  and  as  long  as  we 
pleased  for  exercise,  without  a  gun.  Pascal  explains  the 
whole  matter,  when  he  says,  ^A  man  is  not  running 
after  the  game,  but  trying  to  run  away  from  himself.' 
The  race-ground  presents  such  a  scene  of  folly  and 


AMUSEMENTS.  55 

knavery,  that  it  does  not  deserve  a  serious  argiiment. 
The  stage  abounds  with  everything  which  is  offensive  to 
the  mind  of  a  Christian,  What  think  you  of  a  cele- 
brated tragedian,  who  forbade  her  daughter  to  connect 
herself  with  the  theatre?  Surely  this  speaks  volumes. 
Did  it  never  strike  you  that  an  actor  (y7roiiQiri]g)  has 
given  a  name  to  the  worst  of  vices. 

"  Fishing  is  generally  deemed  a  harmless  amusement, 
but  I  cannot  allow  it  to  be  a  fit  recreation  for  a  Chris- 
tian. What  are  we  to  think  of  impaling  a  worm,  and 
being  highly  delighted  while  the  poor  creature  suffers 
exquisite  torture  for  our  sport  If  we  use  an  artificial 
bait,  yet  is  time,  the  precious  hours  of  life,  so  valueless 
that  we  can  afford  to  throw  away  half  or  a  whole  day  in 
this  trifling  ?  " 

'^What  is  your  opinion  of  oratorios?"  "My  fond- 
ness," he  replied,  "  for  music  may  be  supposed  to  make 
me  a  partial  judge  in  this  case.  I  see  no  objection  to  a 
concert,  when  the  music  is  properly  selected,  yet  I  am 
jealous  of  this  sort  of  amusement,  and  should  think  it 
necessary  to  be  very  cautious  in  encouraging  a  taste  for 
public  exhibition  of  any  kind.  We  never  attend  orato- 
rios in  a  church,  I  consider  it  a  desecration  of  the 
house  of  God  to  use  it  for  any  other  purpose  but  that 
of  religion;  it  shocks  me  to  hear  clapping  and  noisy 
expression  of  pleasure,  when  a  passage  of  Scripture  and 
the  name  of  God  is  made  a  vehicle  for  mere  amusement. 
It  is  absurd  to  talk  of  devotional  feelings  on  such  occa- 
sions. As  to  all  these  things,  I  think  that  God  has  given 
us  immortal  sonls  to  prepare  for  heaven.  People  may 
cry.  What  great  harm  in  this  or  in  that?  They  may 
have  a  plausible  pretext  for  doing  what  I  condemn  ;  for 
there  is  nothing,  however  absurd  or  wicked,  which  will 
want  an  advocate  or  an  argument  to  support  it.  I  lay 
down  this  general  rule  for  all  occupations.  Whatever 
has  a  tendency  to  fit  my  children  for  heaven,  I  approve ; 


56  KEEPING    OF    BIKTH-DAYS,    WITH 

but  I  must  keep  aloof  from  everything  whicli  is  likely 
to  be  a  snare  or  a  temptation  to  them,  or  to  indispose 
their  minds  to  a  serious  and  steady  pursuit  of  this  one 
great  object. 

'  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  Bishop  on  the  race-ground  or 
in  a  theatre  ?  Would  he  not  disgrace  himself,  even  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world,  by  being  present  at  such  places  ? 
"Why  so?  Because  it  would  he  out  of  character.  The 
universal  suffrage  denounces  these  amusements  as  incon- 
sistent with  a  heavenly  mind,  and  with  the  sacred  ofl&ce 
of  a  spiritual  guide.  Surely  this  is  the  strongest  cen- 
sure on  the  amusements  themselves :  it  is,  in  fact,  saying, 
the  more  heavenly  the  man,  the  more  unsuitable  are 
such  things  to  his  character. 

''I  have  often  thought  that  a  Christian  by  profession, 
who  allowed  himself  in  the  indulgence  of  such  things  as 
have  furnished  the  subject  of  our  conversation,  must  be 
at  a  loss  how  to  describe  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  this 
wicked  world,  which  he  has  renounced  at  his  baptism." 

These  remarks  may  excite  a  smile,  as  childish  scru- 
pulosities; or  a  sneer,  as  mere  fanaticism;  but  hard 
names  are  bad  substitutes  for  solid  arguments.  Jt  will 
not  be  easy  to  satisfy  a  sober,  reflecting  mind,  that  Mr. 
Eichmond's  judgment  was  either  weak  or  superstitious. 

Before  we  leave  the  subject  of  amusement,  I  shall 
advert  to  another  kind  of  recreation,  which  Mr.  E. 
provided  for  his  young  people; — the  celebration  of 
birth-days.  On  his  own  birth-day  he  attended  divine 
service,  when  he  preached  a  sermon  to  his  congregation, 
and  endeavoured  to  improve  the  lapse  of  time  by  acts  of 
prayer  and  praise.  The  summons  was  cheerfully  obeyed, 
and  the  parish  bells  rang  merrily.  Great  numbers 
attended  church,  to  worship  God,  and  congratulate  their 
pastor  on  the  occasion.  In  the  course  of  the  day  he 
always  wrote  to  his  mother,  while  she  was  alive,  and 


LETTEKS  ON  THESE  OCCASIONS.     67 

affectionately  reminded  her  and  himself  of  their  endeared 
connection.  On  the  day  following,  he  invited  a  party  of 
his  parishioners  to  dine  at  the  rectory.  This  birth-day 
entertainment  was  looked  forward  to  by  them  with  great 
interest,  and  was  made  an  occasion  of  courteous  hospi- 
tality. The  company  was  of  a  mixed  character,  and  was 
received  by  Mr.  R.  with  a  kindness  and  attention  to  their 
innocent  recreation,  which  never  failed  to  gratify  his 
guests.  The  evening  was  spent  in  music,  and  his  family 
formed  a  little  band  of  performers  in  full  concert.  The 
birth-days  of  his  children  were  kept  with  no  less  refer- 
ence to  religion,  though  in  a  more  private  manner.  He 
commended  them  to  God  for  his  blessing  and  favour. 
He  wrote  each  of  them  a  letter  of  congratulation,  usually 
accompanied  by  a  present  -of  some  useful  kind.  The  day 
was  spent  in  innocent  festivity,  and  the  evening  was 
employed  in  the  museum,  where  he  gave  a  lecture  on 
experimental  philosophy.  These  seasons  were  antici- 
pated by  the  children  with  much  delight,  and  their 
recurrence  contributed,  in  a  great  degree,  to  promote  the 
harmony  of  the  family,  by  a  reciprocity  of  affectionate 
interest  among  its  members. 

I  shall  here  transcribe  a  letter  or  two,  as  specimens 
of  Mr.  Richmond's  birth-day  correspondence.  The  birth- 
day was  kept  as  usual,  even  when  the  child  was  absent  : 
and  whether  absent  or  present,  a  letter  of  congratulation 
was  written  on  the  occasion, 

"Let   not   my  little   loved   K suppose  that  her 

father  forgets  her.  Yaxham  may  seem  a  long  distance 
from  Turvey;  Glasgow  is  a  much  greater,  but  in  neither 
place  can  my  heart  forget  my  child.  I  remember  you  a 
little  babe  in  my  arms.  I  loved  you  then.  I  remember 
you  lying  in  your  little  cot,  and  I  swung  you  there,  and 
loved  you  all  the  while. 


58  KEEPING    OF    BIETH-DAYS,     WITH 

"I  recollect  your  first  attempts  to  walk,  and  your 
many  consequent  little  downfalls.  I  raised  you  up  from 
your  stumblings  and  your  tumblings;  I  dried  your 
tearS;  and  loved  you  still  more.  I  have  not  forgotten 
your  endeavours  to  talk,  nor  your  droll  little  prattlings  ; 
nor  your  first  calling  me  papa,  and  dearly  I  loved  you 
for  it :  and  altbougb  these  things  have  long  since  passed 
away,  and  time  has  added  to  your  years,  my  love  for  my 
K is  not  diminished.  I  often  see  you  in  imagina- 
tion, and  draw  fanciful  pictures  of  your  occupations  in 
your  new  dwelling ;  but  what  is  my  love  compared  with 
that  of  your  heavenly  Father.  What  is  the  strongest 
earthly  affection,  when  contrasted  with  that  which  said, 
'  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them 
not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  Has  my 
child's  heart  an  earnestness,  a  real  unfeigned  earnestness, 
to  share  in  the  love  of  such  a  Father,  and  to  come  when 
so  mercifully  called,  to  such  a  Saviour?  By  nature 
^'foolishness  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a  child:"  never- 
theless by  grace  a  young  child's  heart  may  become  the 
temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  the  residence  of  God  him- 
self. Think  of  little  Jane,  the  Young  Cottager.  May 
you  resemble  her  in  whatever  she  resembled  Christ.  She 
was  a  dear  little  girl,  and  I  wish  there  were  thousands 
more  like  her.  Many  have  been  made  sensible  of  their 
sinful  state  while  reading  that  story,  and,  through  the 
blessing  of  God,  have  been  brought  to  love  the  same 
Eedeemer,  and  have  lived  and  died  rejoicing  in  their 
Saviour.  I  hope,  my  child,  you  pray  not  only  with 
your  lips,  but  with  your  heart.  While  you  are  actively 
and  dutifully  employed  in  acquiring  useful  knowledge, 
"  be  fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord."  In  a  little  time 
you  will  be  in  your  teens,  and  the  very  sound  of  that 
word  should  awaken  you  not  to  the  usual  folly  and 
vanity  of  this  period  of  life,  but  to  the  responsibility  of 
growing  years  and  increasing  privileges :  to  the  cultiva* 


LETTERS  ON"  THESE  OCCASIONS.     59 

tion  of  lioly  learning  and  Christian  habits :  to  the  love 
of  Jesus ;  and  communion  with  his  Spirit^  It  is  my 
prayer,  let  it  be  your's.     And  now,  farewell,   my  dear 

K .     May  you  realize  every  fond  hope,  temporal, 

spiritual,  and  eternal,  of 

Your  affectionate  Father, 

L.  E." 

The  following  letter  was  written  the  year  after,  and 
on  a  similar  occasion :  — 

^'Accept  a  birth-day  blessing  from   your  affectionate 

father,  my  dearest  K :  a  father  who  loves  you  with 

all  his  heart  and  soul.  This  day  thirteen  years  brought 
you  into  a  world  of  sins,  sorrows,  mercies,  hopes,  and 
fears :  surely  it  is  a  day  much  to  be  remembered ;  not  so 
much  by  feastings  and  twelfth-cakes,  as  by  prayers  and 
supplications  to  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  that  he  would  grant  you  grace  to  put  away  the 
follies  of  childhood,  and  to  enter  upon  what  is  commonly 
called  your  'teens,'  with  a  clean  heart  and  a  right  spirit. 
May  my  dear  child  be  a  vessel  of  mercy,  filled  with  all 
the  blessings  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  fitted  for  a  happy 
eternity.  May  the  love  of  Jesus  warm  your  heart  with 
every  affection  which  can  adorn  the  Christian  name  and 
character.  May  your  early  attainments,  at  this  period 
of  a  diligent  childhood,  prepare  you  to  be  the  comfort 
and  prop  of  your  parents  in  their  advancing  years,  if  life 
be  spared  to  them.  Be  conscientious  in  all  you  do. 
Idleness  and  inattention  to  instruction  always  prove 
that  something  is  very  wrong  in  principle.  Diligence  in 
the  improvement  of  your  mind  is  a  tribute  of  obedience 
both  to  God  and  your  parents.  I  rejoice  to  hear  from 
your  kind  governess  that  you  improve  in  this  respect.  I 
trust,  my  dear  child,  we  shall  never  receive  any  intima- 
tion of  your  failure  in  so  important  a  matter.     If  you 


60  KEEPING    OF    BIRTn-DAYS^     WITH 

love  those  at  home,  (and  I  am  persuaded  you  do  love 
tliem  tenderly,)  ever  strive  to  make  tliem  happy  and  easy 
on  your  account.  I  need  not  tell  you  that  every  one 
round  our  iire-side  unites  with  me  in  the  congratulations 

of  this  day.     There  is  but  one  heart  amongst  us.    M 

and  H mention  your  birth-day  in  their  letters.     Our 

Christian  circle  is  reduced  when  three  daughters  are 
absent :  but  love,  memory,  and  imagination  often  bring 
them  all  together,  and  half  fill  the  vacant  chairs  which 
they  used  to  occupy.  Your  brother  Kugent  has  been 
mercifully  preserved  from  an  awfal  shipwreck  in  India  ; 
the  vessel  was  totally  lost,  but  all  the  lives  saved,  and  he 
has  got  a  station  in  another  ship.  '  They  that  go  down 
to  the  sea  in  ships, —  that  do  business  in  great  waters, — 
these  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  his  Avonders  in  the 

deep.'     (Psalm   cvii.   23 — 31.)     And   now,    my  K ^ 

with  a  repetition  of  every  wish,  prayer,  and  blessing, 
believe  me. 

Your  affectionate  Father, 

L.  E." 

*'  Perhaps  my  dear  little  C thought  she  was  too 

young  to  receive  a  letter ;  but  you  see  I  have  not  for- 
gotten you,  nor  L either,  for  whom  you  may  tear 

off  the  other  half  of  this  sheet,  and  if  he  cannot  read  it 
himself,  some  one  will  read  it  to  him.  I  wish  very  much 
to  know  how  you  are  behaving  since  I  saw  you :  what 
character  will  your  pen  and  your  needle  give  of  you 
when  I  ask  them  ?  and  what  will  your  book  say  ?  Your 
playthings,  perhaps,  will  whisper  that  you  have  been 
very  fond  of  them;  well,  a  little  fond  of  them  you  may 
be,  but  you  must  not  think  only  of  them,  my  little  nur- 
sery queen.  There  are  better  things  than  playthings  in 
the  world, — there  are  mammas  and  mamma's  command- 
ments; and  papas,  and  papa's  wishes;  and  sisters,  and 
Bister's  instructions ;  and  there  is  the  Bible,  and  the  God 


LETTEE3     ON    THESE    OCCASIONS.  61 

of  the  Bible,  and  Jesus  Christ  and  his  salvation.  My 
little  girl  must  think  of  these  things,  and  be  an  example 
to  her  young  brothers,  in  order,  obedience,  and  good 
manners,  &c. 

"  You  are  now  at  that  age  when  Jesus  '  increased  in 
wisdom  and  stature,  and  in  favour  with  God  and  man.' 
Meditate  on  this.  I  am  glad  to  think  you  are  acquiring 
knowledge ;  but  ever  keep  in  mind,  that  all  other  know- 
ledge is  valuable  or  not,  just  as  far  as  it  is  united  to 
spiritual  knowledge.  The  word  of  God  and  its  blessings 
form  the  highest  study  of  man. '  May  my  children  grow 
in  such  knowledge.  Farewell,  my  child ;  try  in  every- 
thing to  please,  your  dear  papa, 

L.  E." 

'^P.  S.  —  I  send  a  box  of  changeable  ladies  to  amuse 
you,  but  I  do  not  wish  you  to  become  one  of  the  change- 
able ladies ;  yet  my  heart  prays  that  you  may  prove  a 
changed  soul." 

"I  cannot  let  a  parcel  go  to  Yaxham  without  telling 

my  dear  C how  much  her  father  loves  her.     This  is 

a  day  of  grateful  recollections,  and  hopeful  anticipations. 
God  bless  my  child.    May  she  grow  in  grace  with  increas 
ing  years :  may  she  be  diligent  in  her  studies,  docile  in 
disposition,  devotionally  fervent  in  spirit,  and  unwearied 
in  well-doing ! 

"  My  anxieties  have  been  great  since  I  saw  you.  My 
heart  has  so  clung  to  my  dear  boy,  that  every  tendei 
feeling  and  affection  has  been  exercised  in  the  separation 
from  my  beloved  Wilberforce ;  but  the  loss  has  not 
diminished  but  increased  my  love  to  the  endeared  children 
whom  God  still  spares  to  me.  I  cannot  say  one-thou- 
sandth part  of  what  I  would  on  this  subject,  but  my 
heart  prays  that  you  may  all  grow  in  the  knowledge  of 
Him  with  whom  Ms  soul  now  lives  in  blessedness.     I 


62  KEEPING    OF    BIRTH-DAYS;    "WITH 

hope  mTich  good  has  arisen  to  your  brothers  and  sisters 
at  home,  from  the  sanctified  effects  of  this  heavy  trial. 

May  my  C feel  it  likewise,  and  so  experience  the 

power  of  real  religion  in  her  heart,  that  it  may  appear  in 
her  life  and  conversation.  I  am  very  anxious  on  this 
subject.  A  great  work  of  gracious  awakening  has  taken 
place  in  the  village,  in  connexion  with  Wilberforce's 
happy  end.  Many  careless  souls  are  surprisingly  changed. 
This  is  a  mercy, —  an  unspeakable  mercy  to  me  as  their 
minister.  Oh  !  I  want  all  my  children  to  share  abund- 
antly in  these  views  of  heavenly  grace.  I  earnestly 
covet  for  them  these  best  gifts.  Others  will  have  told 
you  by  this  parcel  how  much  they  love  you.  This  letter 
can  but  very  feebly  say  how  dear  you  are,  in  the  love  of 
a  Saviour 

To  your  affectionate  father, 

L.  E." 

"My  mucii-loved  boy, 

''You  expressed  some  disappointment  at  dinner, 
because  you  had  not  received  your  dear  mamma's  pro- 
mised letter  on  your  birth-day.  What  has  been  the 
cause  of  the  failure  I  know  not,  but  I  will  try  to  com- 
pensate for  the  disappointment  by  giving  you  a  few  lines. 
The  return  of  a  birth-day,  when  rightly  viewed,  is  a  sub- 
ject for  very  serious  meditation :  I  wish  it  may  prove  so 
to  you.  We  have  seen_,  in  the  death  of  your  dear  brother, 
how  little  health  and  strength  are  to  be  trusted.  Child 
hood,  and  youth,  and  time,  are  swiftly  passing  onward, 
and  our  journey  through  this  vale  of  tears,  whether 
longer  or  shorter,  will  soon  be  over.  Can  you  too  early 
learn  the  value  and  importance  of  time  ?  Will  you  not 
hear  the  counsel  of  a  father,  and  meditate  on  those  things 
which  belong  to  your  everlasting  peace  ?  You  have  an 
immortal  soul,  to  be  lost  or  saved  for  ever.  You  have  an 
understanding,  to  distinguish  between  good  and  evil. 
You  are  therefore  a  responsible  being,  who  must  render 


LETTERS     ON     THESE     OCCASIONS.  63 

an  account  of  tlie  deeds  done  in  the  body,  whether  they 
be  good  or  whether  they  be  evil.     Childhood  is  the  period 
when  the  character  and  habits  of  the  future  man  are 
formed.      Trifle  not,  therefore,  with  your  childish  days. 
Set  a  firm  and  valuable  example  to  your  younger  brother : 
hewill  more  or  less  imitate  your  ways  and  dispositions, 
be  they  better  or  worse.     Eemember !  the  eye  of  God  is 
upon  you  in  every  place.     Be  where  you  will,  you  may 
always  say,  with  Hagar  in  the  wilderness,  "  Thou  God 
seest  me."     I  have  of  late  known  but  little,  too  little,  of 
your  state  of  mind,  and  your  views  *of  things  temporal 
and  spiritual.      I  have  had  occasional  uneasiness  on  this 
subject.     You  ought  ever  to  be  putting  forth  the  energies 
of  your  mind  in  every  proper  and  possible  way.      It  is 
time  that  your  attention  should  be  drawn  to  your  future 
station  in  life,  whatever  Providence  may  design  it  to  be. 
Every  day  and  every  hour  should  bare  witness  to  some 
progress  and  improvement  in  useful  learning ;  and  above 
all,  in  that  knowledge  which  maketh  wise  unto  salvation. 
You  have  on  all  subjects  much  to  learn,  and  it  will  not 
be  acquired  without  much  labour,  and  firm  determination 
of  mind  and  talent  to  the  acquirement.      What  may  be 
the  inclination  of  your  own  mind  as  to  business,  profession, 
or  occupation,  I  know  not :  but  I  wish  you  most  seri- 
ously to  take  this  subject  into  deliberate  consideration, 
and  let  me  in  due  time  know  the  result,  that  I  may  give 
you  counsel  and  advice.      In  the  mean  time,  a  thirst  for 
useful  knowledge,  and  a  laborious  attention  to  its  attain- 
ment, will  best  evidence  your  fitness  for  that  state  of  life 
unto  which  it  may  please  God  to  call  you.     But  you  can 
do  nothing  well  without  faith  and  prayer, —  without  much 
anxious  reading  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.      This  reminds 
me  of  your  dear  brother  Wilberforce.      He  left  upon 
record  amongst  you  all,  his  testimony  to  the  value  and 
necessity  of  reading  the  word  of  God ;  and  it  is  my  heart's 
desire  and  prayer  that  all  my  loved  children  may  follow 


64.  KEEPING    OF    BIBTII-DAYS;    WITH 

his  example  and  his  dying  exhortations.  The  season  of 
the  year  is  fast  advancing  which  brings  all  the  affections 
and  solemnities  of  his  latter  end  to  view.  Every  day  of 
the  approaching  fortnight  brings  to  remembrance  the 
various  events  of  his  last  days.  They  are  all  indelibly 
fastened  on  my  heart's  memory ;  they  live,  glow,  and 
burn  there  with  a  vividness  of  impression,  of  which  none 
can  be  aware,  and  form  a  daily  part  of  my  very  self. 
But  I  refer  to  them  now  for  my  dear  Legh's  sake.  I 
have  lost  my  two  eldest  boys,  and  I  am  deeply  solicitous 
that  those  who  reiftain  to  me  should  be  devoted  to  God ; 
and,  if  spared,  become  the  prop  and  solace  of  my  advan- 
cing years.  It  is  indeed  time,  my  Legh,  that  you  should 
feel  the  importance  of  such  considerations.  You  were 
named  Serle,  after  one  of  the  most  holy  and  excellent 
men  with  whom  I  ^ver  was  acquainted.  Mere  Christian 
names  can  confer  no  grace ;  but  I  may  be  permitted  to 
wish,  and  hope,  and  pray,  that  you  may,  by  divine  grace, 
resemble  him,  and  follow  him  as  he  followed  Christ. 
''The  Christian  Eemembrancer,"  "The  Horce  Solitarise," 
''  The  Christian  Parent,"  and  many  other  admirable  books, 
bear  testimony  of  his  piety  and  talents :  ''  He  being  dead, 
yet  speaketh."  And  now  my  child,  may  every  blessing 
attend  you,  for  this  world  and  the  next,  for  time  and  for 
eternity.  May  the  return  of  this  birth-day  remind  you 
of  many  an  important  duty  and  principle.  Look  into 
the  real  state  of  your  heart,  and  never  be  afraid  or  asha- 
med to  make  me  acquainted  with  it.  "  The  end  of  all 
things  is  at  hand,  be  ye  therefore  sober,  and  watch  unto 
prayer."  The  heart  that  now  loves  and  watches  over 
you  on  earth,  may  ere  long,  and  must  in  time,  become 
cold  in  the  grave :  but  seek  him  who  never  dieth,  and 
his  love  which  never  decay eth,  and  all  shall  be  well  with 
you,  here  and  hereafter.     So  counsels  and  prays 

Your  affectionate  Father, 

Legh  Eichmond." 


LETTERS  ON  THESE  OCCASIONS.     65 

I  have  mentioned  Mr.  E's  correspondence  with  liis 
mother  on  his  own  birth-day.  After  her  decease  he  wrote 
the  following  letter  to  his  eldest  daughter,  who  was  united 
to  an  excellent  and  valuable  minister  of  the  established 
church  of  Scotland  : — 

''My  VERY   DEAR   DAUGHTER, 

"  Through*  many  a  returning  year  I  wrote  to  my  dear 
and  venerated  mother  on  my  birth-day.  She  is  gone  to 
her  rest,  and  I  can  only  communicate  with  her  in  grate- 
ful recollection  and  hopeful  anticipation.  To  whom  cai^ 
I  now  address  myself  with  more  propriety  and  love  on 
such  an  occasion,  than  to  my  absent,  distant,  but  much- 
loved  child. —  My  child,  so  mercifully  restored  to  health, 
after  so  severe  an  illness  and  so  much  danger,  my  thoughts 
and  prayers  have  been  unceasing  respecting  you.  I  have 
endeavoured  patiently  to  wait  upon  the  Lord,  and  he 
hath  heard  my  prayer.  I  have  viewed  this  trying  dispen- 
sation as  sent  of  God  for  some  great  and  good  purpose  to 
your  own  and  to  all  our  souls ;  and  I  trust  we  shall  find 
it  so.  You  will  have  to  learn  to  glorify  God  in  the  fires, '^ 
and  magnify  the  God  of  your  salvation ;  to  see  the  pre- 
carious tenure  of  human  life,  and  to  devote  your  restored 
powers  of  mind  and  body  to  him  from  whom  you  have 

received  both.      Oh,  my  dear  M ,  what  a  God  he  is, 

and  what  a  redemption  he  has  wrought  for  sinners !  See, 
in  your  own  recent  trial  an  emblem  of  Christ's  love  ;  — 
yourself  a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning, —  saved,  yet 
so  as  by  fire, —  raised  from  weakness  to  strength,  tempest- 
tossed  and  afflicted,  yet  preserved, —  cast  down,  but  not 
destroyed.  It  is  the  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  of 
your  father,  on  his  birth-day,  that  all  these  things  may 
work  together  for  your  good,  temporal  and  spiritual.  It 
is  a  day  which  I  always  contemplate  with  much  tender 


*  Mrs.  M.  had  been  suffering  from  an  accident  by  fire. 
6* 


66  CHOICE    OF    COMPANIONS. 

affection,  and  my  thoughts  are  such  as  I  cannot  utte 
Life,  death,  and  eternity,  spread  a  vision  before  me,  anu 
I  meditate  with  solemnity  and  deep  humiliation.  I  have 
lived  now  more  than  half  a  century.  On  the  past  I  look 
with  much  repentance  for  my  sins,  and  much  gratitude 
for  my  mercies.  Of  the  future  I  know  nothing,  except 
that  my  times  are  in  God's  hand,  and  tliat  is  enough. 
But  my  responsibilities  make  me  often  tremble.  They 
rise  like  mountains  before  me :  but  I  lift  up  my  eyes  to 
the  hills  from  whence  cometh  my  health,  and  the  moun- 
tains of  difficulty  become  plains,  and  the  rough  places 
smooth.  Amongst  my  mercies  I  feel  peculiarly  thankful 
for  the  union  of  my  dear  child  with  such  a  man  and  such 

a  minister  as  Mr.  M .    This  doubly  endears  Scotland 

to  my  heart.  I  have  formed  many  valuable  friendships, 
and  received  many  kind  favours  from  its  inhabitants.  I 
have  delighted  in  its  scenery,  and  tasted  many  excellent 
fruits  of  its  piety  :  but  to  have  a  daughter  placed  in  the 
midst  of  Scotia's  hills  and  plains  renders  the  land  pecu- 
liarly interesting  to  me. 

May  every  day  add  to  your  strength  and  comfort. 
May  you  and  I,  not  only  as  parent  and  child,  but  as 
fellow-pilgrims  on  the  road  to  Zion,  walk  lovingly,  con- 
genially, and  safely,  to  the  end  of  our  journey.  I  hope, 
if  God  spare  me,  to  see  you  in  the  spring,  but  whether 
here  or  there,  I  am  ever 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  E." 

From  the  amusement  of  leisure  hours,  and  the  returns 
of  the  birth-day  memorials,  I  pass  on  to  notice  my 
friend's  care  and  extreme  anxiety  to  keep  his  young 
people  from  dangerous  associates.  To  choose  suitable 
companions  is  not  less  difficult  to  a  Christian  parent  than 
to  provide  useful  recreations  for  them.  The  peculiar 
talents  of  Mr.  Eichmond  enabled  him  to  supply  abundant 


CHOICE    OP     COMPANIONS.  67 

materials  for  the  employment  of  leisure  hours ;  and  his 
strong  affection  for  his  children  rendered  that  a  pleasure, 
which  to  many  would  have  been  an  irksome  duty.  He 
made  himself  not  only  a  profitable  but  a  suitable  and 
interesting  companion  to  them.  They  felt  no  discontent 
at  the  strict  exclusion  of  other  intimacies ;  to  which  there 
was  but  one  exception,  in  the  son  of  a  gentleman  in  his 
parish,  who  studied  under  the  same  tutor,  and  who  was 
ever  admitted  with  affectionate  esteem  and  confidence 
into  his  family  party.  Probably  Mr.  E's.  marked  anxiety 
on  this  point  may  be  traced,  in  part,  to  the  unhappy 
career  of  his  eldest  son  ;  on  whom  he  had  witnessed  the 
effect  of  bad  influence  in  a  corrupt  associate.  So  inflexi- 
bly did  he  adhere  to  his  rule,  that  he  allowed  no  inter- 
course whatever  with  other  families,  except  under  his 
own  watchful  eye  and  diligent  superintendence.  He 
even  declined  invitations  from  personal  relatives  whom 
he  dearly  loved,  and  with  whom  he  himself  kept  np  a 
friendly  correspondence.  It  was  his  fixed  resolve  to 
sacrifice  all  considerations  of  interest,  and  even  courtesy, 
although  he  might  thereby  expose  himself  to  censure 
and  misapprehension — rather  than  expose  his  children 
to  an  influence  which  he  feared  might  be  injurious  to 
them.  And  even  when  some  of  them  were  nearly  grown 
up,  he  exercised  the  same  vigilance,  and  regarded  with 
suspicion  every  circumstance  from  which  he  apprehended 
possible  injury. 

He  used  to  say — ''My  dear  friends  and  relations  are 
amiable  and  highly  respectable.  I  have  great  reason  to 
be  grateful  for  their  kind  intentions  and  good  ofl&ces; 
but  I  cannot  tell  what  my  children  may  meet  with  in  a 
style  of  life  so  different  from  mine.  One  fatal  hour  may 
undo  years  of  instruction,  and  give  me  endless  perplexity. 
I  have  suffered  enough  from  sending  a  child  from  home." 

His  sentiments  on  this  subject  are  expressed  in  the 
following  letter  to  Mrs.  E. ;  who  had  asked  his  advice 


^8  CHOICE     OF    COMPANIONS. 

before  she  consented  to  allow  one  of  his  da"aarliters  to 

o 

accompany  a  lady  of  great  respectability  and  undoubted 
piety,  into  Devon,  to  spend  the  winter  there.  It  was 
not  improper  that  Mrs.  E.  should  wish  her  children  to 
see  something  of  the  world  and  be  gradually  accustomed 
to  act  for  themselves ;  and  the  character  of  the  protector 
and  companion  was  a  sufficient  guarantee  against  evil 
contact.  Our  friend  was  at  that  time  in  Scotland,  from 
whence  he  replied  to  the  application  :  — 

"  My  deak  love, 
''In  common  with  my  own  parents  I  have  ever  had 
strong — very  strong  objections  to  allowing  my  children 
to  visit  any  where  withoat  one  of  their  parents;  and 
through  life  I  have  seen  and  lamented  endless  evils 
arising  from  the  want  of  superintendence,  and  the 
absence  of  those  who  are  most  concerned  in  guarding 
against  the  mischief  of  association  with  other  fiimilies. 
As  a  general  rule,  therefore,  I  have  always  objected  to 
it,  from  conscientious  motives.  Yet  there  may  be  excep- 
tions, and  I  readily  admit  that  the  case  in  question  may 

be  one  of  them I  wish  to  make  home  the  grand  centre 

of  attraction,  affection,  and  comfort.  You  know  from 
this  year's  experience  how  ready  I  am  to  give  our  girls 
the  advantage  of  seeing  life :  but  I  cannot  think  that  the 
withdrawing  the  parent's  eye  would  increase  the  advan- 
tages of  a  journey.  Never  is  that  eye  and  ear  so  neces- 
sary as  at  such  an  age.  I  would  infinitely  rather 
undertake  the  responsibility  attached  to  those  possible 
and  contingent  evils,  which  might  occur  under  the 
vigilant  and  tender  superintendence  of  parents,  than  of 
those  which  might  arise  from  the  connexions  and  habits 
formed  when  that  restraint  is  withdrawn.  I  perfectly 
accord  with  you  in  wishing  our  dear  children  to  gain 
advantages  from  associating  with  our  various  Christian 
friends,  and  am  acting  daily  on  your  own  ideas.    But 


CHOICE    OF     COMPANIOKS.  69 

I  see  more  and  more  daily,  liow  exceedingly  desirable 
my  own  presence  is,  and  that  continually.  But  "when 
the  will  of  God  is  expressed  in  regard  to  health,  &c. 
and  the  path  of  duty  is  thereby  clearly  pointed  out  to 
me,  you  must  not  suppose  me  to  be  either  indifferent  or 
positive.  At  the  same  time  I  see  mountains  of  difficulty 
in  deciding,  amidst  numerous  requests, — which  to  accept, 
and  which  to  refuse. 

"I  approve  your  plan  for  Wilberforce — I  do  not 
oppose  your  wishes  for  Mary — I  only  pause — but  I 
much  admire  your  sentiments,  and  taking  both  body 
and  mind  into  consideration,  hope  it  may  be  the  will  of 
God. 

"Farewell,  dear  love.  Cherish  a  comfortable  spirit, 
—  do  not  mistrust  God, — let  not  your  soul  be  disquieted 
within  you, — look  kindly  on  providences,  and  hopefully 
on  events,  and  ever  regard  me  as 

Your  faithful 

Legh." 

Some  of  Mr.  E.'s  best  friends  have  disapproved  the 
degree  of  restraint  which  he  judged  it  right  to  impose  on 
his  children.  They  have  blamed  him  for  interdicting  the 
usual  freedom  of  intercourse  with  families  whose  conduct 
and  principles  he  approved.  It  is  possible  that  his  feel- 
ings were  morbidly  acute  on  occasions ;  and  his  extreme 
anxiety  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  his  family  often 
proved  injurious  to  himself;  for  he  sometimes  passed  a 
sleepless  night,  in  expectation  of  an  ordinary  visit  on  the 
morrow.  Such  was  his  vigilance,  that  if  a  friend  intro- 
duced his  son  under  circumstances  of  common  courtesy, 
he  appeared  restless  and  uneasy  if  the  young  people 
were  left  together  without  superintendence,  even  for  a 
few  moments.  Other  persons  might  also  have  taken 
advantage  of  an  extensive  popularity  to  benefit  their 
families,  but  he  never  could  be  prevailed  on  to  use  a  fair 


70  CHOICE    OF    COMPANIONS. 

opportunity  of  bringing  them  forward  to  notice,  to 
advance  their  temporal  welfare. 

"  I  cannot  endure,"  he  used  to  say,  ''  even  to  seem  to 
make  my  religious  influence  a  stepping-stone  to  promo- 
tion for  me  or  mine." 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  my  friend's  judgment,  it 
is  impossible  not  to  respect,  admire,  and  love  the  holy 
integrity,  the  perfect  simplicity  and  oneness  of  object  in 
the  man  of  God ;  and  I  cannot  doubt  that  his  purity  of 
motive  has  been  recorded  in  heaven,  and  will  be  owned 
on  earth  after  many  days.  Whatever  worldly  advan- 
tages, supposed  or  real,  may  have  been  lost  to  his  family 
from  the  steady  application  of  religious  principle,  how- 
ever pushed  to  an  extreme,  an  abundant  compensation 
will  be  made  by  that  Being  whose  blessing  invariably 
attends  a  faithful  adherence  to  the  dictates  of  conscience, 
and  who  hath  promised,  "  Him  that  honoureth  me  I  will 
lionour." 

"My  dear  M — 
"We  have  had  a  very  prosperous  journey  thus  far. 

I  am  passing  a  few  comfortable  days  with  at  this 

place.  But,  alas !  this  is  a  town  in  which,  speaking  of 
our  own  church,  religion  is  little  known.  The  inhabit- 
ants of  all  ranks  think  of  nothing  but  folly,  vanity,  and 
dissipation :  their  evenings  are  spent  in  the  unprofitable 
anxieties  of  the  card-table,  the  ensnaring  amusement  of 
dancing,  or  the  delusions  and  temptations  of  the  play- 
house ;  their  mornings  in  idle  gossippings  and  waste  of 
time.  When  I  see  these  things,  I  feel  satisfied  that  I 
have  kept  my  dear  children  from  such  scenes,  and  such 
companions.  Oh  I  how  lamentable  to  contemplate  a 
great  town  full  of  inhabitants, — gentry,  clergy,  manu- 
facturers, tradesmen,  &c. — living  almost  without  God  in 
the  world ;  error  preached  from  the  pulpits ;  no  care  for 
the  souls  of  the  people ;  no  family  prayer  in  the  houses ; 


CUOICE    OF    COMPANIONS.  71 

no  zeal  for  religion,  -anlesS;  perhaps  it  be  now  and  tlien 
excited  to  abuse  and  ridicule  all  those  who  have  any  real 
love  for  Grod  and  their  souls. 

"  May  my  dear  child  be  preserved  from  the  defilements 
of  a  vain,  dangerous,  and  destroying  world.  You  know 
not,  and  I  wish  you  never  may  know,  its  snares  and  cor- 
ruptions.    I  was  greatly  affected  in  conversing  with  a 

family  at ,  upon  the  marriage  of  their  daughter, 

under  the  following  circumstances :  The  Father  was  an 
exemplary  clergyman,  the  mother  a  most  pious  woman : 
they  had  brought  up  a  family  with  strict  attention  to 
religious  precepts  and  principles,  and  they  were  not 
without  hope  that  their  daughter  had  some  piety. 

''  A  young  man  of  property,  but  of  no  decided  reli- 
gious principle,  became  acquainted  with  her.  Inattentive 
to  the  affectionate  duties  which  she  owed  to  her  excellent 
parents,  their  feelings,  and  their  advice,  she  suffered  her 
mind  to  be  led  away  into  an  attachment  towards  this 
young  man.  The  parents  were  aware  that  his  general 
habits  and  views  would  be  uncongenial  to  their  wishes 
for  a  daughter's  spiritual  welfare,  and  therefore  objected. 
However,  the  daughter  so  far  obtained  her  wishes,  that  a 
very  reluctant  consent  was  given  to  the  marriage.  The 
daughter,  gradually  led  away  into  worldly  company  and 
amusements,  has  given  up  even  the  outward  profession 
of  religion,  and  now  lives  as  the  world  lives.  Yet  she  is 
not  happy;  and  her  parents  are  very  unhappy.  The 
daughter  cannot  help  remembering  the  example,  the 
exhortations,  the  prayers,  the  solicitudes,  and  the  tears 
of  her  parents ;  but  it  is  only  with  remorse,  which  she 
strives  to  drown  in  worldly  company  and  carnal  amuse- 
ments. They  wept  over  the  case  with  me,  which  pre- 
sents a  proof  of  the  sad  consequences  of  young  people 
giving  way  to  hasty  impressions,  and  yielding  to  con- 
nexions not  founded  on  a  regard  to  the  honour  of  God, 
gratitude  to  parents,   and  consistency  with  a  religious 


72  CHOICE     OF     COMPANIONS. 

profession.  How  needful  is  it  tliat  Christian  parents, 
and  Christian  children,  should  be  firm  and  conscientious 
in  the  important  duty  of  encouraging  connexions  for  life 
only  on  Christian  principles!  "What  distress* to  families, 
and  what  decays  of  hopeful  character  have  resulted  from 

a  deficiency  on  this  point !    Let  me  warn  my  dear  M 

against  that  unbecoming  levity,  with  which  many  young 
"people  treat  these  subjects.  Evil  communications  cor- 
rupt good  manners,  very  especially  in  this  matter.  The 
love  of  Christ  is  the  only  safe  ground  of  all  motives,  and 
of  all  conduct.  Where  this  is  established,  all  is  well. 
The  life-blood  of  Christianity  then  circulates  through 
every  vein  of  the  soul ;  and  health,  strength,  and  purity 
of  mind  is  the  happy  result.     Fall  down  upon  your 

knees  before  God,  my  M ,  praying  that  he  would 

pour  that  love  into  your  heart,  till  it  become  a  constrain- 
ing principle  for  the  government  of  your  thoughts  and 
actions.  This  is  the  only  remedy  for  all  the  diseases  of 
the  soul. 

"Beware  of  pride  and  self-conceit;  of  fretful  tempers 
and  discontent.  Learn  to  quell  impatience  and  obstinacy. 
Let  your  first,  your  very  first  delight  be,  in  serving 
God  by  serving  your  parents.  Eeckon  not  on  youth,  or 
long  life.  Devote  yourself  to  active  usefulness  in  the 
family,  and  in  the  parish.  Show  forth  the  principles  in 
which  you  have  been  educated,  by  a  practical  exhibition 
of  them  in  your  conduct.  But  who  is  sufficient  unto 
these  things?  Christ!  Without  him  you  can  do  no- 
thing :  no,  not  so  much  as  think  a  good  thought.  But 
you  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  strengthening  you. 
He  is  the  sufficiency  of  all  his  people.  By  faith  in  him 
you  obtain  power  to  perform  duty.  "  By  grace  are  ye 
saved,  and  that  not  of  yourselves ;  not  of  works,  lest 
any  one  should  boast."  Could  works  save  us,  we  might 
boast,  and  heaven  would  be  full  of  boasters.    But,  no, 


PARENTAL     A  D  M  O  N  I  T  I  O  In  S.  73 

no,  no;   tlie  song  of  the  saints  is,    ''Not  unto  ns,  not 
unto  us,  but  unto  tliy  name  be  all  the  glory."  • 

Your  affectionate  father, 

Legii  EicnMo:N"D." 

We  subjoin  some  parental  admonitions,  and  a  series 
of  important  remarks,  for  the  regulation  of  female 
conduct. 

''My  dear  M , 


*'  I  leave  you,  in  much  love,  a  few  fatherly  hints, 

1.  Be  constant  in  private  prayer. 

2.  Be  wise  in  the  choice  of  books ;  shun  everything 
of  the  romance  and  novel  kind!  and  even  in  poetry, 
keep  to  what  is  useful  and  instructive,  as  well  as 
pleasant. 

3.  In  company,  show  that  the  principles  of  your 
father's  house  and  ministry  are  your  rule  of  conduct, 
and  your  real  delight.  Be  consistent ;  —  cheerful,  but 
not  light ;  conversible,  but  not  trifling. 

4.  Keep  ever  in  view,  that  you  are  supporting  my 
character  and  credit,  as  Avell  as  your  own. 

6.  Show  a  marked  preference  to  such  conversation, 
remarks,  persons,  discussions,  and  occupations  as  may 
tend  to  essential  good. 

6.  Always  think  before  you  speak ;  say  and  do  nei- 
ther hastily  nor  unadvisedly. 

7.  If  any  jDroposal  is  ever  made  to  you,  in  which  you 
hesitate  how  to  act,  first  say  to  yourself, —  How  would 
God  have  me  to  act?  Secondly, —  What  would  my 
parents  have  me  to  do,  if  they  were  here  to  advise 
me? 

8.  Never  lose  sight  of  this :  that  the  more  public  my 
name,  character,  and  ministry  are  become,  the  more 
eyes  and  ears  are  turned  to  my  children's  conduct :  they 
are    expected,    in    knowlodge    and    eircuinspection,    in 


74  PARENTAL     ADMONITIONS. 

religion  and  morals,  in  opinions  and  habits,  to  show 
Vhere  they  have  been  educated ;  and  to  adorn,  not  only 
tlieir  own  Christian  profession,  but  their  parent's  prin- 
ciples. 

9.  In  music,  prefer  serious  to  light  compositions ;  and 
in  vocal,  keep  close  to  sacred  words. 

10.  Pray  much  for 

Your  affectionate  father, 

Legh  EicH:NroND." 

''  P.  S. —  I  send  you  the  following  application  of  a 
sermon,  from  Eph.  v.  15,  16  :  — 

On  circumspection   of  ivallc ;   redemption   of  time:    and 
general  transparency  of  character, 

1.  Adhere  most  scrupulously  to  truth ;  and  labour 
to  preserve  the  strictest  integrity,  simplicity,  and  sincerity. 

2.  Engage  in  no  pursuit  in  which  you  cannot  look 
up'  unto  God,  and  say,   '  Bless  me  in  this,  0  my  Father  1 ' 

8.  Strive  to  be  as  kind,  forbearing,  and  forgiving  as 
you  can,  both  to  friends  and  foes. 

4.  Never  speak  evil  of  any  one,  on  any  pretence 
whatever. 

6.  Strive  to  recommend  religion  by  the  courtesy, 
civility,  and  condescending  character  of  your  conduct. 

6.  Watch  against  irritation,  positiveness,  unkind 
speaking,  and  anger :  study  and  promote  love. 

7.  Mortify  lusts ;  —  sensuality  and  sloth. 

8.  Never  allow  others  to  speak  well  of  you :  nor  espe- 
cially yourself,  to  say  or  think  anything  of  yourself, 
but  as  poorly  done.  Keep  down  pride ;  let  it  not  be 
indulged  for  a  moment,  but  watch  against  it. 

9.  Shut  out  evil  imaginations  and  angry  thoughts. 

10.  Let  it  be  your  sole  business  here  to  prepare  for 
eternity.     Cansider  eyery  moment  of  time  in  that  vievv'. 


F  A  R  E  K  T  A  L     ADMONITIONS.  75 

11.  Eemember  that  you  have  to  contend  with  a  legion 
of  devils ;  a  heart  full  of  deceit  and  iniquity ;  and  a 
world  at  enmity  with  God. 

12.  Pray  that  you  may  ever  rejoice  in  the  advance- 
ment of  Christ's  kingdom^  and  the  salvation  of  sinners ; 
and  labour  in  every  Avay  to  promote  these  objects. 

Prayer  is  the  only  weapon  which  can  subdue  your 
corruptions^  and  keep  your  evidences  bright.  Cultivate 
prayer. 

We  add  another  of  these  edifying  testimonies  of  pater- 
nal solicitude  and  love. 

''  To  MY  Daughters.  ^ 

''  With  a  heart  full  of  affection,  I  sit  down  to  express 
a  few  sentiments  and  intimations  of  my  wishes,  as  con- 
nected with  your  conduct,  in  the  course  of  any  journey 
or  absence  from  home.  I  wish  each  of  you  to  preserve 
a  copy  of  it,  my  dear  children,  and  often  look  at  it; 
take  it  with  you  when  from  home,  and  keep  it  safe  when 
at  home. 

"Independently  of  my  anxious  wishes  for  your  secret 
spiritual  welfare,  I  have  much  to  feel  on  my  own  ac- 
count, in  point  of  credit  and  character,  as  connected 
with  your  deportment,  in  every  house  and  company  into 
which  I  may  introduce  you.  I  have  not  a  doubt  of  your 
general  affectionate  wish  to  speak  and  act  rightly ;  but 
inexperience,  youth,  thoughtlessness,  and  want  of  more 
acquaintance  with  the  world  carnal,  and  the  world 
religious,  may  easily  occasion  inconsistencies  and  errors, 
which  might  be  injurious  to  your  own,  as  well  as  to  my 
comfort  and  credit.  Accept,  therefore,  a  father's  bless- 
ings and  prayers,  with  a  father's  chapter  of  admoni- 
tions and  explanations. 

"You  are  not  unaware  that  my  name  and  character 
have  acquired   much  publicity;— that  I  avowedly  be- 


76  PAEENTAL    ADMONITIOKS. 

long  to  a  class  of  Christian  ministers  who  profess,  for 
Christ's  and  their  soul's  sakes,  to  live  separate  from  the 
world ;  to  mamiam  purer  and  more  distinct  views  of  the 
scripture  doctrine;  and  to  be  willing  to  spend  and  be 
spent  in  behalf  of  the  truth,  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  I  am, 
therefore,  supposed  not  only  to  maintain  a  consistent 
separation  from  the  follies  and  vices  of  the  world,  its 
pomps  and  vanities,  but  also  to  aim  at  so  ruling  and 
guiding  my  household,  that  my  principles  may  shine 
forth  in  their  conduct.  Any  want  of  correctness,  con- 
sistency, faithfulness,  and  propriety  in  them,  will 
always  excite  a  mixture  of  censure,  surprise,  and  con- 
cern, as  it  reorards  me.  The  friends  of  relicrion  will 
grieve,  and  those  who  are  otherwise  will  rejoice,  if  you 
could  be  drawn  into  compliances,  and  expressions  of 
sentiment,  at  variance  with  your  father's :  always, 
therefore,  keep  in  remembrance,  whether  you  are  in 
company  with  decidedly  religious  and  consistent  Chris- 
tians, or  with  those  who  are  only  partially  so,  or  with 
those  who  are  unhappily  not  so  at  all, — that  you  have 
not  only  your  own  peace  of  conscience  to  maintain,  but 
the  estimation  and  honour  of  your  parent  also.* 

"  Many  temptations  will  occur,  to  induce  you  to  yield 
and  conform  to  habits  and  principles,  the  very  reverse 
of  those  which  you  hear  me  supporting,  both  in  the 
pulpit  and  the  parlour.  Be  not  ashamed  of  firmly, 
though  modestly,  in  such  cases,  resisting  them.  State 
what  your  principles  and  mine  are,  and  heed  not  the 
momentary  unpleasantness  of  appearing  singular,  when 
conscience  and  duty  require  it.  You  may  easily  say, 
^My  father  does  not  approve  of  such  and  such  things, 

•  Should  any  ono  think  thoro  is  too  prominent  a  regard  expressed  for 
his  own  reputation,  in  the  advice  and  admonition  ho  gives  his  children; 
let  such  an  objector  compare  Mr.  Richmond's  feelings  with  those  of  the 
Apostle,  in  adverting  to  the  conduct  of  his  spiritual  children ;—"  Lest 
when  I  come  again,  my  God  will  humble  me  amongst  you;  and  I  should  bewail 
many  who  have  sinned  already,"  Ac- 2  Cor.  xii.  21. 


PAPwENTAL     ADMONITIONS.  77 

neither  can  I.'  JSTo  person  wliose  estimation  is  worth 
having,  will  think  the  worse  of  you,  for  such  instances 
of  mild,  but  decisive  firmness ;  and  without  it,  I  should 
be  disgraced. 

^'  All  descriptions  of  public  amusements ;  novels ;  pop- 
ular, amorous  poems  ;  plays,  songs,  vanities,  and  finery ; 
and  all  the  sad  tribe  of  poisonous  and  dangerous  pur- 
suits should  be  regulated  by  this  principle.  And,  oh! 
that  your  own  simplicity  and  love  to  Christ  may  never 
give  way  to  one  sad  influence  of  false  sentiment ;  even 
amongst  those  whom,  on  other  accounts,  we  may  esteem 
and  regard.  The  half-religious  are  often  more  dan- 
gerous than  those  who  are  less  so ;  because  we  are  more 
on  our  guard  in  the  latter  case  than  the  former.  The 
great  number  of  instances  in  which  I  have  seen  the 
young  people  of  religious  families  deeply  injured  in 
their  spirits  and  habits,  by  much  visiting  with  persons 
of  different  views  and  customs  from  those  of  their  own 
household,  has  made  me,  I  confess,  from  pure  motives 
of  conscience  and  prudence,  very  averse  to  much  of  that 
sort  of  visiting  in  my  children's  case,  which  I  know  to 
have  been  productive  of  bad  consequences  in  others. 
And  the  difficulty  of  drawing  the  line  has  always 
appeared  very  great  with  my  numerous  friends  and 
acquaintance.  Still  I  wish  to  make  you  happy  in  every 
reasonable  way;  and  I  am  glad  when  I  can  give  you 
the  advantage  of  new  scenes  and  company,  when  they 
are  of  the  right  kind.  But  as,  in  my  journeys,  exten- 
sive intercourse  takes  place,  a  great  variety  of  characters 
will  fall  in  your  way ;  and  I  wish,  for  all  your  sakes, 
that  you  may  be  provided  with  sober,  discreet,  and  reli- 
gious cautions;  that  the  natural  ardour  of  youth  may 
not  lead  you  into  unbecoming  or  sinful  compliances. 
I  know  many  families,  and  you  know  a  few,  where, 
perhaps,  the  parents  are  religious,  but  their  young  peo- 
ple are  very  imperfectly,  if  at  all  so :  in  such  cases  you 


78  PARENTAL    ADMONITION'S. 

may,  from  equality  of  age,  be  tiirown  mucli  more  into 
the  light,  frivolous,  and  objectionable  conversation  of 
the  younger,  than  the  more  useful  communication  of 
the  elders  of  the  family.  Here,  often,  there  is  danger: 
ever  prefer  and  chose  those,  of  whatever  age,  in  whom 
you  think  you  discover  holy,  serious,  benevolent,  con- 
sistent ways  of  acting  and  speaking. 

"  A  young  professor  of  religion  has  not  in  most  in- 
stances, so  difficult  a  task  to  sustain,  when  in  conversa- 
tion with  those  of  a  decidedly  religious  deportment,  as 
with  worldly  persons,  and  those  who  can  scarcely  be 
ranked  as  consistently  serious,  although  often  to  be  met 
with  in  religious  parties.  If,  however,  your  conscience 
be  correct,  you  will  see  more  and  more  the  duty  of 
acting  and  speaking  aright;  and  you  must  ever  pray 
for  grace  to  direct  and  govern  yon.  Difficulties  and 
dangers  of  this  kind  greatly  multiply,  when  those  who, 
from '  relationship  and  family  regard,  stand  very  near  to 
natural  love  and  affection,  are  nevertheless,  in  a  great 
measure,  strangers  to  the  power  of  true  religion,  and 
therefore  mingled  with  the  world  wholly,  pursuing  its 
pleasures,  and  supporting  its  customs.  I  entreat  you  to 
be  much  on  your  guard  in  all  such  cases.  Decays  in 
religious  feeling  and  conduct  continually  arise  from  this 
source :  and  endanger  the  temporal,  spiritual,  and  eternal 
welfare  of  many  a  hopeful  family. 

"  I  am  frequently  placed  in  situations  myself,  where  I 
find  it  very  difficult  to  satisfy  my  conscience  that  I  am 
doing  right ;  amongst  people  and  families  where  real 
religion  has  little  or  no  part  in  their  ways  and  conversa- 
tion. In  trying  to  be  kind,  attentive,  and  too  compliant, 
perhaps,  to  their  habits,  I  feel  that  I  am  in  great  danger 
of  strengthening  them  in  evil,  and  always  of  injuring  my 
own  consistency  as  a  Christian. 

"1  will  now  add  some  remarks,  placed  under  select 
heads,  which  may  make  them  more  conspicuous,  and 


PARENTAL    ADMONITIONS.  79 

better  remembered;  and  may  God  render  tkem  useful  to 
you !  Keep  them  constantly  with  you,  and  let  tliem  be 
read  over,  at  least  once  a  week. 


AMUSEMENTS. 

^' Plays,  balls,  public  concerts,  cards,  private  dances, 
&c.  &C. 

"  Serious,  consistent  Christians,  must  resist  these  things, 
because  the  dangerous  spirit  of  the  world  and  the  ilesh 
is  in  them  all :  they  are  the  '  pomps  and  vanities  of  this 
wicked  world,'  so  solemnly  renounced  at  baptism.  To 
be  conformed  to  these  seductive  and  more  than  frivolous 
scenes,  is  to  be  conformed  to  this  world,  and  opposed  to 
the  character  and  precepts  of  Christ.  They  who  see  no 
harm  in  these  things  are  spiritually  blind ;  and  they  who 
will  not  hear  admonition  against  them,  are  spiritually 
deaf.  Shun,  my  dear  girls,  the  pleasures  of  sin,  and  seek 
those  which  are  at  God's  right  hand  for  evermore.  You 
cannot  love  both, 

"  Blessed  be  God,  you  have  boon  kept  far  from  those 
who  make  such  recreations  their  idols,  and  suffer  them 
to  wean  their  hearts  from  God.  Never,  in  any  conver- 
sation, speak  lightly  or  triflingly  of  these  subjects,  as  if 
you  had  not  imbibed  proper  sentiments  concerning  them. 
Ever  preserve  the  consistency  of  your  parental  house 
and  principles. 

BOOKS, 

"  Characters  are  speedily  discerned  by  their  choice  of 
books.  Novels  in  prose  I  need  not  now  forbid ;  igno- 
rant as  you  are  of  their  bad  tendency  by  experience, 
you,  I  am  persaadcd,  trust  me  on  that  head,  and  Avill 
never  sacrifice  time,  affection,  or  attention  to  them. 
But  beware  of  novels  in  verse.      Poets  are  more  dan- 


80  PAEENTAL    ADMONITIONS. 

gerous  than  prose  writers,  when  their  principles  are 
bad.  Were  Lord  Byron  no  better  poet  than  he  is  a 
man,  he  might  have  done  little  harm ;  but  when  a  bad 
man  is  a  good  poet,  and  makes  his  good  poetry  the 
vehicle  of  his  bad  sentiments,  he  does  miscliief  by 
wholesale.  Do  not  be  ashamed  of  having  never  read 
the  fashionable  poems  of  the  day.  A  Christian  has  no 
time,  and  should  have  no  inclination  for  any  reading 
that  has  no  real  tendency  to  improve  the  heart.  The 
finest  rule  I  ever  met  with,  in  regard  to  the  choice  of 
books,  is  this  :  — '  Books  are  good  or  bad  in  their  effects, 
as  they  make  us  relish  the  word  of  God,  the  more  or  the 
less,  after  we  have  read  them.'  There  are  too  many 
valuable  books  on  a  variety  of  subjects,  which  ought  to 
be  read,  to  alloAV  of  time  to  be  dedicated  to  unworthy 
and  useless  ones. 

MUSIC. 

."Shun  all  the  wretched  folly  and  corruption  of  light, 
silly,  and  amorous  songs;  on  the  same  principle  that 
you  would  shun  books  of  the  same  nature.  Sacred 
music  is  the  true  refuge  of  the  Christian  musician.  I 
wish  your  ears,  your  hearts,  and  your  tongues  were 
often  tuned  to  such  melodies.  The  play-house,  the 
opera,  and  the  concert-room,  have  deluged  the  world 
with  the  abuses  of  the  heavenly  art  of  music.  Music 
was  designed  to  lead  the  soul  to  heaven,  but  the  corrup- 
tion  of  man  has  greatly  prevented  the  merciful  inten- 
tion. Do  not  you  belong  to  such  perverters,  nor  seem 
to  take  pleasure  in  those  who  do. 

DRESS. 

"Aim  in  great  neatness  and  simplicity.  Shun  finery 
and  show. 


PARENTAL    A  1>  M  aiTITI  O  N  S.  81 

''Be  not  in  haste  to  follow  new  fashions. 

''Remember,  that  with  regard  to  dress,  Christians 
ought  to  be  decidedly  plainer,  and  less  showy  than  the 
people  of  the  world.  I  wish  it  to  be  said  of  the  females 
of  my  house. — '  "With  what  evident  and  becoming  sim- 
plicity are  the  daughters  of  Simplex  ^  attired.'  I  refer 
you  to  my  last  letter  on  that  subject. 

BEHAVIOUR    IN    COMPANY. 

"  Be  cheerful,  but  not  gigglers. 

"Be  serious,  but  not  dull. 

"  Be  communicative,  but  not  forward. 

"Be  kind,  but  not  servile. 

"In  every  company  support  your  own,  and  your 
father's  principles,  by  cautious  consistency. 

''  Beware  of  silly  thoughtless  speeches  :  although  you 
may  forget  them,  others  will  not. 

"Eememberl  God's  eye  is  in  every  place,  and  his 
ear  in  every  company. 

"Beware  of  levity  and  familiarity  with  young  men; 
a  modest  reserve,  without  affectation,  is  the  only  safe 
path; — grace  is  needfal  here;  ask  for  it;  you  know 
where. 

J  O  U  R  N  E  Y I  N  G  S. 

"  Cultivate  knowledge  as  you  travel :  — 

"History,  antiquities, — in  cities,  towns,  churchas, 
castles,  ruins,  «fec. 

"  Natural  history, —  m  plants,  earth,  stones,  minerals, 
animals,  &c. 

"Picturesque  taste, — ^in  landscape-scenery,  and  all 
its  boundless  combinations. 

*  Mr.  Richmond's  signature  in  the  Christian  Guardian. 


82  PAEENTAL    ADJIONITIONS. 

'•  Cultivate  good-humoured  contentment  in  all  tiie 
little  inconveniences  incident  to  inns,  roads,  weather,  &C. 

"Cultivate  a  deep  and  grateful  sense  of  the  power, 
wisdom,  and  goodness  of  Grod,  in  creation  and  provi- 
dence, as  successively,  presented  to  your  notice,  from 
place  to  place 

"Keep  diaries  and  memoranda  of  daily  events, 
places,  persons,  objects,  conversations,  sermons,  public 
meetings,  beauties,  wonders,  and  mercies,  as  you  travel. 
Be  minute  and  faithful. 

"Ask  many  questions  of  such  as  can  afford  useful 
information  as  to  what  you  see. 

"  Write  your  diary  daily ;  delays  are  very  prejudicial. 
You  owe  a  diary  to  yourself,  to  your  friends  left  at 
home,  and  to  your  father,  who  gives  you  the  pleasuro 
and  profit  of  the  journey, 

P  K  A  Y  E  R. 

"  Strive  to  preserve  a  praying  mind  through  the  day ; 
not  only  at  the  usual  and  stated  periods,  but  every 
where,  and  at  all  times,  and  in  all  companies.  This  is 
your  best  preservative  against  error,  weakness  and  sin. 

"Always  remember  that  you  are  in  the  midst  of 
temptations ;  and  never  more  so  than  when  most  pleased 
with  outward  objects  and  intercourse. 

"  Pray  and  watch ;  for  if  the  spirit  be  willing,  yet  the 
flesbiis  deplorably  weak. 

EELIGION. 

^'  Keep  ever  in  mind,  that  for  your  own  sake  and  for 
my  sake,  you  have  a  religious  profession  to  sustain ; 
and  this  both  in  serious  and  worldly  company.  Be 
firm  and  consistent  in  them  both.  Many  eyes  and  ears 
are  open  to  observe  what  my  children  say  and  do,  and 


PARENTAL    ADMONITIONS.  83 

will  be,  wherever  Ave  go.  Pray  to  be  preserved  from 
errors,  follies,  and  offences,  wliicb.  bring  an  evil  name 
upon  the  ways  of  God.  You  may  sometimes  hear 
ridicule,  prejudice,  and  censure  assail  the  friends  of  true 
religion  ;  —  it  ever  was  and  will  be  so :  but  "  blessed  are 
they  which  are  persecuted  for  righteousness'  sake,  for 
their's  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Be  not  ashamed 
of  Christ  here,  and  he  will  not  be  ashamed  of  you 
hereafter. 

''Court  and  encourage  serious  conversation  with 
those  who  are  truly  serious  and  conversible;  and  do 
not  get  into  valuable  company,  without  endeavouring  to 
improve  by  the  intercourse  permitted  to  you,  Nothing 
is  more  unbecoming  than  that,  while  one  part  of  a 
company  is  engaged  in  profitable  and  interesting  con- 
versation, another  part  should  be  trifling,  giggling, 
and  talking  comparative  nonsense  to  each  other. 

"Ever  show  the  interest  which  you  take  in  the  sub- 
ject of  schools  for  the  poor,  the  distribution  of  tracts,  the 
Bible  and  Missionary  Societies,  and  all  those  important 
topics  which  so  deeply  occupy  the  people  of  God :  and 
when  you  can  find  a  congenial  friend,  talk  of  heaven 
and  eternity,  and  your  soul  and  your  Saviour.  This 
will  be  as  a  shield  to  your  head  and  your  heart. 

ESTIMATE    OF    CHARACTEES. 

''  Look  first  for  grace.  Do  not  disesteem  good  peo- 
ple on  account  of  their  foibles,  or  deficiencies  in  matters 
of  little  importance.  Gold,  even  when  unpolished,  is 
far  more  valuable  than  the  brightest  brass.  Never 
form  unfavourable  opinions  of  religious  people  hastily — 
"  Charity  hopeth  all  things."  Prize  those  families 
where  you  find  constant  family  prayer;  and  suspect 
evil  and  danger  where  it  is  avowedly  unknown  and  un- 
practised.     Always  remember  the  astonishing  difference 


84  PARENTAL    ADMONITIONS. 

between  the  true  followers  of  Jesus,  and  tlie  yet  uncon- 
verted world,  and  prize  tliem  accordingly,  whatever  be 
their  rank  in  society. 

"  Grentility  and  piety  form  a  happy  union ;  but 
poverty  and  piety  are  quite  as  acceptable  in  the  eyes  of 
God;  and  so  they  ought  to  be  in  ours.  ISTot  only  are 
the  poor  far  more  in  actual  number  than  the  rich,  but 
experience  proves  that  the  proportionate  number  of  the 
truly  serious  amongst  the  poor  is  much  greater  than  the 
corresponding  proportion  of  numbers  amongst  the  rich. 
Take  1000  poor  and  100  rich ;  you  will  probably  find 
ten  of  the  latter  serious ;  but  200  of  the  former  shall  be 
so  at  the  same  time. 

"  Beware  of  the  critical  hearing  of  sermons  preached 
by  good  men.  It  is  an  awful  thing  to  be  occupied  in 
balancing  the  merits  of  a  preacher,  instead  of  the  de- 
merits of  yourself.  Consider  every  opportunity  of 
hearing  as  a  message  sent  you  from  heaven.  For  all  the 
sermons  you  have  heard,  you  will  have  to  render  an  ac 
count  at  the  last  day. 

PARENTS. 

"  Seek  to  make  them  happy  in  you. 

'^  If  you  perceive  that  anything  in  your  ways  makes 
them  otherwise,  you  ought  to  have  no  peace  until  you 
have  corrected  it;  and  if  you  find  yourself  indifferent 
or  insensible  to  their  will  and  wishes,  depend  upon  it 
yours  is  a  carnal,  disobedient,  ungrateful  heart.  If  you 
hve  them,  keep  their  commandments ;  otherwise  love 
is  a  mere  word  in  the  mouth,  or  a  notion  in  the  fancy, 
but  not  a  ruling  principle  in  the  heart.  They  know 
much  of  the  world,  you  very  little:  trust  them,  there- 
fore, when  they  differ  from  you  and  refuse  compliance 
with  your  desires;  —  they  watch  over  you  for  God,  and 
are  entitled  to  great  deference  and  cheerful  obedience. 


HOME.  85 

You  may  easily  sliorten  tlie  lives  of  affectionate  and 
conscientious  parents,  by  misconduct,  bad  tempers,  and 
alienation  from  their  injunctions.  Let  not  this  sin  be 
laid  to  your  charge. 

"  I  shall  add  no  more  at  present,  than  that  I  am 
Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  EicnMOND." 

It  may  be  thought  that  a  transition  from  seclusion  to 
an  active  life,  and  from  the  habits  of  a  retired  village 
to  the  busy  hagnts  of  men,  is  more  safe  when  gradual 
than  when  sudden;  and  that  as  young  persons  must 
sooner  or  later  be  connected  with  the  world  that  lies  in 
wickedness,  it  Avere  better  to  accustom  their  minds  by 
degrees  to  a  contact  which  will  be  afterwards  unavoid- 
able. A  Christian  parent  will,  however,  feel  extremely 
jealous  of  the  modern  practice  of  exposing  youth  to  a 
prurient  knowledge  of  evil,  of  removing  parental  super- 
intendence at  too  early  an  age,  and  of  allowing  an  unre- 
strained freedom  of  association,  which  appears  to  me, 
as  it  did  to  Mr.  E.  to  be  attended  with  great  danger. 
The  effect  of  the  present  habits  are  but  too  obvious : 
premature  and  indiscriminate  intercourse,  and  the  relax- 
ation of  former  discipline,  has  generated  a  race  of 
Tyros  whose  chief  distinction  seems  to  be  a  contempt 
for  authority,  and  a  rash  and  arrogant  pretension  to 
superiority  very  unbecoming  their  years  or  station.  It 
is  far  better  to  train  up  a  child  in  the  ways  of  Grod  than 
in  the  maxims  of  the  world — to  be  more  intent  on  se- 
curing for  him  an  entrance  into  eternal  life,  than,  with 
a  hope  of  present  advantage,  to  put  to  hazard  the  salva- 
tion of  his  immortal  soul.  I  would  apologize  (if  apology 
be  necessary),  for  dwelling  on  details  which  may  appear 
too  trifling  for  notice,  but  the  Christian  parent,  who  can 
duly  estimate  the  'potency  of  little  things,'  may  collect 


86 


HOME. 


from  them  some  useful  hints  for  the  regulation  of  his 
own  family,  and  with  this  view  I  insert  them. 

Mr.  Etchmond  was  an  early  riser,  and  he  endea- 
voured to  inspire  the  same  activity  into  the  minds  of 
his  children.  He  used  to  read  with  them  in  his  study, 
at  as  early  an  hour  as  six  o'clock  in  the  morning ;  and 
as  occasions  arose,  prayed  with  them  in  succession :  he 
was  very  attentive  to  their  regularity,  neatness,  and 
good  manners,  and  he  endeavoured  to  make  the  con- 
versation at  table  useful  and  improving.  Sometimes  he 
proposed  a  subject  for  discussion,  and  wjj^en  he  perceived 
youthful  spirits  rising  to  excess,  he  would  throw  in  a 
remark  to  check  the  exuberance.  No  one  aimed  more 
constantly  to  restrain  the  evils  of  the  tongue  in  his 
family;  if  ever  an  observation  was  made  to  the  disad- 
vantage of  another,  his  uneasiness  was  apparent;  slan- 
der in  any  shape  was  distasteful  to  him,  and  he  was  sure 
to  say  something  in  the  way  of  allowance  or  excuse.  In- 
deed Mr.  E.  particularly  excelled  in  controversial  powers: 
with  a  fund  of  good  humour,  he  abounded  in  anec- 
dote, and  having  a  large  acquaintance  with  science  of 
every  kind,  he  never  failed  to  entertain;  while  with  a 
soul  ever  intent  on  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  best  inter- 
ests of  his  fellow-creatures,  he  was  under  no  temptation 
to  sacrifice  the  useful  to  the  amusing.  Table  talk  i? 
seldom  regarded  with  a  proper  sense  of  its  importance 
Servants  are  often  on  the  watch  to  catch  something  foi 
circulation,  and  to  retail  among  themselves  the  opinions 
which  their  masters  have  expressed  in  their  presence . 
the  general  strain  of  social  intercourse  ought  therefore  to 
be  regulated  with  a  view  to  their  improvement.  Children 
are  apt  to  trifle,  and  relate  all  they  have  heard  without 
discrimination,  and  they  need  an  elder  to  guide  and  give 
a  tone  to  their  conversation;  this  my  excellent  friend 
accomplished  in  a  manner  the  most  felicitous :  he  allowed 
and  even  encouraged  perfect  freedom  and  ease ;  yet  every 


INTERCOURSE     WITH     SERVANTS.  67 

one  felt  that  there  was  an  eye  and  an  ear  over  every 
thing 

Innumerable  mischiefs  arise  to  children  from  too  close 
an  intimacy  with  domestics ;  a  foundation  is  often  laid, 
here,  for  opinions  and  habits  difficult  to  be  afterwards 
eradicated:  not  only  are  coarse  and  vulgar  tastes  im- 
bibed, but  vices  of  an  appalling  character  are  learnt,  in 
the  stable  or  the  kitchen,  where  ready  instruments  are 
frequently  found  to  concur  in  deceiving  a  parent,  or 
gratifying  some  bad  propensity  in  the  minds  of  children. 
It  was  a  point  of  importance  in  Mr.  K.'s  mind,  that  no 
wicked  person  should  dwell  beneath  his  roof;  his  do- 
mestics, as  far  as  practicable,  were  selected  from  persons 
of  good  principles,  and  they  became  warmly  attached 
to  his  family.  Yet,  even  under  these  circumstances,  he 
forbade  all  unnecessary  intercourse :  there  are  doubt- 
less many  faithful  servants,  worthy  of  our  esteem  and 
confidence,  but  as  a  general  rule,  intimacies  of  this  kind 
are  productive  of  evil,  and  no  good  can  arise  from  too 
close  a  connection  between  our  children  and  dependents. 
Mr.  E.  provided  each  child  with  a  separate  sleeping- 
room,  thus  securing  a  comfortable  place  of  retirement 
and  devotion.  These  little  sanctuaries  were  always 
accessible  to  himself;  he  often  visited  them  to  leave  a 
note  on  the  table;  for  while  at  home,  as  well  as  when 
abroad,  he  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  his  family, 
which  he  used  to  call  his  Home  Mission ;  and  to  these 
notes  he  requested  a  reply.  I  have  heard  him  explain 
his  reasons  for  so  singular  a  method  of  instruction ;  he 
used  to  say,  "I  feel  an  insurmountable  backwardness 
to  close  personal  conversation  with  my^ children:  when 
I  begin  they  are  silent,  and  it  is  not  long  before  I  also 
feel  tongue-tied :  yet  I  cannot  be  easy  without  ascertain- 
ing the  effect  of  my  instructions,  and  hence  I  have  been 
driven  to  use  my  pen,  because  I  could  not  open  my  lips." 
Mr.  R.  is  not  the  only  father  who  has  felt  and  yielded  to 


88  HOME    coeeesponde:n'ce. 

tills  repugnance,  witliout  adopting  liis  ingenious  remedy 
for  a  weakness  not  uncommon;  yet  not  tlie  less  to  be 
lamented.  I  am,  however,  disposed  to  estimate  this 
home-correspondence  more  highly  than  a  direct  personal 
appeal.  Conversation,  (if  it  be  not  a  contradiction  so  to 
speak,)  is  apt  to  be  all  on  one  side ;  but  a  communication 
by  letter  admits  of  freedom  and  reflection,  and  if  a  reply 
be  expected,  obliges  an  interchange  of  sentiments.  It 
also  teaches  young  people  to  think  and  compose. 

When  circumstances  required  a  longer  epistle,  as 
when  a  fault  needed  correction,  or  a  removal  from  the 
family  was  about  to  take  place, — when  preparation  for  a 
religious  ordinance  was  required,  or  the  choice  of  a 
profession  to  be  made, — on  such  occasions  Mr.  E.  was 
diffuse,  earnest,  particular;  at  other  times  his  little 
notes  contained  only  an  affectionate  suggestion  of  a  text 
for  meditation,  or  an  hint  to  improve  some  event.  He 
seemed  anxious  that  his  children  should  have  a  subject, 
to  use  his  own  phrase,  "  on  the  stocks,"  and  a  habit  of 
always  employing  their  minds  and  making  the  best  use 
of  the  hours  which  usually  run  to  waste, — the  moments 
and  interstices  of  time.  He  used  to  say,  "  an  idle  mo- 
ment is  Satan's  opportunity." 

The  reader  may  expect  a  specimen  or  two  of  those 
short  notes,  which,  as  I  have  already  observed,  were  con- 
voyed by  himself  and  left  on  the  table  in  his  children's 
rooms,  with  a  request  for  a  reply  within  a  limited  time. 
These  replies  formed  the  subjects  of  his  prayers  on  their 
behalf. 

''Deak  H.. 
''Your  text  to-day  shall  be,  "the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin."  No  sin  is  too  great  to  be 
pardoned;  but  then  the  soul  must  seek,  believe,  and 
experience  this  mercy.  There  is  infinite  value  in  the 
blood  of  Christ,  but  the  believer  alone  enjoys  the  privi- 


HOME     COERESPONDEXCE.  89 

lege.  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Clirist,  and  tliou  slialt 
be  saved."  This  is  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the  life. 
My  dear  child,  what  conld  we  lost  sinners  do,  if  it  were 
not  for  this  atoning  merit?  Seek  and  you  shall  find. 
Lose  no  time ;  Christ  waits  to  be  gracious,  carry  your 
heart  and  all  its  feelings  to  him  in  prayer ;  and  when 
you  have  told  him  all  your  wants,  pray  for  your  affec- 
tionate Father, 

L.  ElCHMOND." 

"  My  dearest  F. 

"As  I  trust  that  it  is  your  own  and  my  wish,  that 
your  mind  should  be  seriously  and  affectionately  di- 
rected towards  the  greatest  of  all  external  privileges, 
the  Lord's  Supper,  I  wish  you  to  answer  me  in  writing, 
these  two  questions:  —  What  are  your  views  of  the 
nature,  design,  and  privilege,  of  this  sacrament?  and 
what  are  the  real  feelings  of  your  heart  at  this  time 
respecting  it?  This  communication  is,  and  shall  be, 
quite  confidential  between  you  and  your  affectionate 
Father. 

''P.  S. — I  trust  the  first  Sunday  in  October  may  unite 
as  at  the  feast  of  love." 

"  My  dear  L. 
''I  leave  these  few  lines  with  you,  in  the  hope  that 
you  will  reply  to  them  while  I  am  at  Cambridge.  You 
must  write,  therefore,  not  later  than  by  Tuesday's  post. 
I  do  from  my  heart  desire  to  know  whether  you  do  or 
do  not,  feel  an  anxiety  about  your  soul's  salvation.  Has 
the  affecting  thought,  'I  must  live  for  ever  in  heaven 
or  hell,'  suitably  impressed  your  mind?  This  black 
border  may  remind  you  of  your  dear  departed  brother,— 
but  does  his  memory  live  in  your  heart  for  good?  It  is 
time  you  seriously  reflected  on  eternity,  and  the  value 
of  your  soul.     You  are  a  sinner,  and  without  a  gracious 

8* 


90  HOME     CORKESPONDENCE. 

Saviour,  you  must  perish.  Do  you  pray,  in  Christ's 
name,  and  that  earnestly,  for  the  pardon  of  your  sins  ? 
May  I  hope  that  you  are  a  penitent  ?  Do  you  think  of 
"Willy's  last  words  to  you,  and  of  all  that  he  so  ear- 
nestly recommended  to  your  serious  attention?  Have 
you  written  down  his  dying  words,  as  I  desired  you  ? 
Be  not  afraid  to  open  your  mind  to  me.  Let  us  have 
an  unreserved  intercourse  with  each  other.  Put  away 
childish  things, —  imitate  your  brother's  love  of  learn- 
ing, but  especially  his  love  of  the  Bible,  and  his  con- 
stancy in  the  exercises  of  devotion.  Oh !  comfort  your 
father's  heart,  by  truly  turning  to  God,  and  seeking  his 
salvation ;  and  may  God  bless  you  for  ever  and  ever, 
which  is  the  fervent  prayer  of  your  affectionate  parent, 

L.  E." 

''  My  DEAR  Child, 
"I  am  pleased,  much  pleased  with  your  letter,  the 
more  so  as  it  contains  some  expressions,  which  inspire  a 
hope  that  you  are  beginning  to  think  and  feel  seriously 
about  your  soul's  salvation.  While  I  cannot  but  be 
most  tenderly  affected  by  the  loss  of  my  two  elder  sons, 
endeared  to  me  by  a  thousand  recollections,  I  become 
the  more  anxious  for  the  welfare  of  those  children  whom 
God  spares  to  me.  For  the  last  year  I  have  gone 
through  great  trials,  and  my  health  has  suffered  more 
than  any  are  aware  of;  but  in  the  midst  of  all  my  sor- 
rows, the  inexpressible  goodness  of  God  has  been  most 
manifest,  and  I  trust  my  afflictions  have  been  blest  to 
many.  Many  a  rose  has  sprung  up.  around  the  cold 
grave  of  my  dear  Willy,  and  they  still  blossom,  and  I 
trust  will  continue  to  blossom,  till  they  bo  transplanted 
from  the  spiritual  garden  of  Turvey,  into  the  paradise  of 
God.    But  can  I  be  otherwise  than  anxious  that  my  dear 

K should  add  a  flower  to  my  domestic  and  parochial 

shrubbery  ?     Are  you  to  reach  your  sixteenth  year,  and 


HOME     CORRESPONDENCE.  91 

not  internally,  as  well  as  externally,  prove  yourself  a 
partaker  of  tlie  grace  of  God?  I  trust  not;  —  but  reli- 
gion is  not  a  matter  of  mere  circumstantials,  or  even  of 
morals.  It  is  the  spiritual  application  of  divine  truth  to 
the  heart,  producing  that  devotedness  to  God,  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  true  from  the  nominal  Christian.  But 
when,  how,  and  where  does  this  begin  ?  Not  until  you 
have  deep,  humbling,  sincere,  and  anxious  thoughts 
about  yourself,  and  the  favour  of  Grod ;  not  until,  by  a 
kind  of  holy  violence,  you  feel  constrained  to  flee  to 
Christ,  as  the  only  refuge  from  the  wrath  to  come ;  not 
until  prayer  becomes  importunate,  and  the  study  of 
God's  word  a  delight;  not  until  every  other  consider- 
ation yields  to  that  infinitely  important  inquiry,  "  What 
must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?  "  Not  until  the  light,  trifling, 
and  thoughtless  child  of  man  be  converted,  through 
grace,  into  the  serious,  conscientious,  and  believing  state 
of  the  real  child  of  God.  Is  this  the  case  with  you  ?  I 
speak  as  a  Christian  father  and  minister.  What  are 
your  views  on  these  important  subjects?  I  wish  my 
child  to  be  deeply  in  earnest ;  life  flies  apace,  the  period 
of  the  tomb  advances.  I  have  four  children  in  eternity : 
it  is  true  that  eight  more  still  continue  with  me  on  earth, 
but  how  long  will  they  be  here  ?  Which  of  them  may 
next  be  taken  from  me  ?  I  think  on  these  things  with 
deep  solemnity.  You  tremble  at  the  thought  of  a  school- 
examination, — but  what  is  this  to  the  examination  before 
the  judgment-seat  of  God?  Go,  then,  as  a  sinner  to 
Christ.  He  sends  none  empty  away.  In  him  and  him 
alone,  there  is  a  rich  provision  for  all  who  come  to  him. 
But  let  this  coming  include  a  surrender  of  all  you  are, 
and  all  you  have,  to  the  Lord  of  grace  and  glory.  Be 
contented  with  nothing  short  of  realitv  in  religion. 

''  Whence  come  I  ? — memory  cannot  say ; 
VLh&t  am  I? — knowledge  will  not  show  ; — 
Bound  whither  ? — ah  I  away — away —  t 


92  DISCIPLINE. 

Far  as  eternity  can  go  ; 

Thy  love  to  win,  thy  wrath  to  flee, 

Oh  God  I  thyself  my  helper  be."  ^ 

Farewell;  dear  cliild,  and  believe  me; 

Your  truly  loving  Father, 

L.  E." 

Discipline  is  a  subject  of  no  small  moment  in  tjae 
education  of  a  family.  Offences  must  needs  come,  and 
the  foolishness  which  is  bound  up  in  the  heart  of  a 
child  will  discover  itself  in  acts  of  disobedience  both  to 
God  and  a  parent.  How  this  is  to  be  met,  controlled, 
and  subdued,  has  occasioned  a  difference  of  opinion  be- 
tween wise  and  good  men.  It  is  agreed  tliat  authc-nty 
must  be  maintained,  and  that  all  which  is  sinful  and 
injurious  to  a  child's  welfare,  must  be  firmly  realited. 
But  it  is  not  easy  to  avoid  the  two  extremes  of  harsh- 
ness, and  a  weak  fondness ;  —  to  he  firm;  yet  kirid ;  to 
do  nothing  from  temper,  from  partiality  or  caprice; 
to  preserve  composure  u.nder  circumstances  ol'  pro- 
vocation. 

I  cannot  undertake  to  decide  whether  corporal  chas- 
tisement is  to  be  inflicted  or  dispensed  with.  The 
scripture  warns  us  equally  against  severity  and  tindue 
tenderness;  "not  to  provoke  to  wrath,  nor  honoar  our 
children  above  God ;  "  on  this  point  men  must  determine 
according  to  the  dictates  of  their  own  consciences.  So 
far  I  am  satisfied,  that  there  are  few  occasions  when  the 
rod  is  indispensably  necessary,  and  none  which  will 
justify  its  use  under  the  rufflings  of  temper :  nor  will 
the  effect  be  salutary,  if  a  child  does  not  at  the  time  feel 
it  to  be  a-  reluctant  severity,  giving  more  pain  to  the 
offended  than  to  the  offender.  Force  may  be  the  easier 
way  of  settling  a  difference,  and  is  probably  often 
resorted  to  from  a  wish  to  escape  the  trouble  and  labour 


DISCIPLINE.  93 

of  more  reasonable  methods  of  eradicating  evil :  bnt  it 
seldom  fails  to  excite  sinful  exasperation,  and  induce  a 
brutish  character ;  and  the  example  on  the  part  of  the 
parent;  is  often  found  unfavourable  to  right  dispositions 
in  the  other  members  of  the  family  towards  each  other. 
Yet  I  am  bound  to  admit,  (as  the  result  of  my  own  ob- 
servation,) that  even  severity  is  a  less  evil  in  its  conse- 
quences, than  a  weak  connivance  at  a  child's  miscon- 
duct. The  parent  who  "  never  displeases  his  child  at 
any  time,"  must  expect  to  reap  the  fruits  of  his  own 
folly  in  the  ruin  of  his  offspring.  Excessive  indulgence 
seldom  fails  to  bring  a  rebuke  along  with  it.  Mr. 
Eichmond's  method  of  discipline  was  peculiar  to  him- 
self; partly  the  effect  of  his  own  unbounded  tenderness 
and  affection,  but,  in  a  great  measure,  of  his  deep  and 
extraordinary  piety.  He  could  never  be  justly  accused 
of  a  weak  connivance  at  evil,  for  here  he  was  resolute, 
firm  and  inflexible ;  yet  he  was  never  known  to  em- 
ploy corporal  chastisement.  Whatever  may  be  thought 
of  his  treatment  of  offences,  it  was  felt  by  every  member 
of  his  family,  that  nothing  could  make  him  yield,  or 
shake  his  resolution, —  no,  not  for  a  moment.  He  was 
alive  to  all  that  was  wrong  in  principle  or  conduct,  and 
he  never  ceased  to  remonstrate,  or  to  employ  means  to 
reduce  his  child  to  obedience,  and  awaken  in  him  a  sense 
of  error.  But  the  chief  way  in  which  he  marked  his 
displeasure,  was  by  those  signs  of  extreme  distress, 
which  penetrated  the  heart  of  the  delinquent,  and  soft- 
ened rebellion  into  regret.  From  the  misconduct  of  his 
child,  he  seemed  to  reflect  on  himself,  as  the  author  of 
a  corrupt  being.  He  humbled  himself  before  God,  and 
in  prayer  sought  help  from  above :  while .  he  kept  the 
offender  at  a  distance,  or  separated  him  from  the  society 
of  his  family,  as  one  unworthy  to  share  in  their  privi- 
leges and  affections.  No  one  of  his  children  could  long 
endure  this  exclusion,  or  bear  with  sullen  indifference  a 


94       LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN. 

countenance  wliich  silently  expressed  the  deepest  an- 
guish. Perhaps  there  never  was  a  family  where  the 
reign  of  love  suffered  less  interruption.  The  reader  must 
form  his  OAvn  opinion  of  Mr.  K's.  mode  of  regulating  his 
family.  He  must  determine  for  himself,  how  far  a  dis- 
cipline  of  this  kind  is  worthy  of  imitation,  or  is  suitable 
to  his  own  circumstances.  Where  there  exists  the  same 
consistency  and  unity  of  purpose,  an  equal  desire  to 
glorify  God  in  all  things,  and  a  similar  diligence  in  the 
education  of  a  family,  I  feel  confident  that  the  divine 
blessing  will  crown  with  success  the  exercise  of  this 
or  any  other  discipline  of  a  Christian  parent. 

Two  or  three  other  letters  to  his  children,  touching 
both  on  lively  and  on  serious  topics,  will  appropriately 
close  this  chapter. 

"  Sea  Banlc,  Ayrshire. 

"  My  much  loved  F 

"As  you  hear  all  the  good  news  from  Glasgow,  I 
need  not  repeat  it.  JSTow  take  a  Scotch  map,  and  you 
shall  see  where  I  am.  Look  on  the  sea-coast  of  Ayr- 
shire, and  you  see  a  place  between  Ayr  and  Largs,  called 
Salt  Coasts.     Close  to  this  is  a  lovely  cottage,  called  Sea 

Bank,  the  residence   of  my  friend   Mr. .      In   the 

front  is  a  magnificent  view  of  the  sea,  as  far  as  Ireland — 
The  Firth  of  Clyde  with  its  beauteous  islands — Arran, 
whose  Craggy  picturesque  mountains  tower  to  the  sky, 
in  the  wildest,  highest  style  of  romantic  grandeur  and 
beauty-^- Bute,  smaller,  but  very  lovely — The  Cumbraies 
— The  long  peninsula  of  Cantyre,  and  over  it  the  high 
pvramidical  mountains  of  Jura  —  The  coast  of  Ayrshire, 
farther  than  the  eye  can  reach,  and  the  surprising  rock 
called  the  Craig  of  Ailsa,  rising  up  in  the  midst  of  the 
ocean,  far  away  from  all  land,  and  sustaining  solitary 
majesty,  the  almost  unmolested  haunt  of  wild  birds, 
goats,  and  rabbits.     Yesterday  there  was  a  great  storm^ 


LETTEKS    TO     HIS    CIIILDIIEN.  95 

and  the  sea  raged  horribly.  I  saw  many  a  vessel  tossed 
about  in  all  directions.  I  went  down  to  tlie  shore,  and 
stood  astounded  amidst  roaring  waves,  screaming  sea- 
fowls,  and  whistling  winds.  To-day  all  is  calm,  gentle, 
and  inviting.  Yesterday  I  saw  the  sublime ;  to-day  the 
beautiful.  I  am  writing  at  a  window  which  commands 
the  whole  view.  Somehow  or  other  I  am  much  amused 
with  the  appearance  and  conduct  of  a  large  flock  of 
poultry,  just  now  parading  about  on  the  lawn  beneath 
me.  There  are  five  pea-fowls,  six  turkeys,  twenty 
cocks  and  hens*  and  a  solitary  goose  from  Botany  Bay. 
They  walk  and  talk  with  much  diversified  gait  and  air. 
The  sober  gravity  of  their  pace,  occssionally  interrupted 
by  a  gobble,  a  jump,  and  a  snap ;  the  proud  loftiness  of 
the  peacock,  sometimes  expressed  in  solemn  silence,  and 
sometimes  by  a  very  unmusical  squall.  The  ruffling 
vibrations  of  the  turkey-cock's  feathers,  with  now  and 
then  a  brisk  advance  towards  his  rival  of  the  green; 
the  social  grouping  of  the  cocks  and  hens,  contrasted 
with  the  unsocial  condition  and  march  of  the  poor 
unpartnered  goose,  who  grunts  dismally,  and  sometimes 
turns  up  a  doubtful  sort  of  a  side-look  at  me,  as  I  sit  at 
the  window,  as  much  as  to  say,  "Who  are  you?"  Some- 
times a  continued  silence  for  a  space,  and  then  a  sudden 
and  universal  cackling,  as  if  they  were  all  at  once 
tickled  or  frightened,  or  in  some  way  excited  to  garru- 
lity. All  this  amuses  me  not  a  little.  There  are  also 
two  noble  watch-dogs;  I  wish  they  had  been  at  the 
house  when  the  robbers  came.  I  feel  much  when  at  a 
distance  from  home, —  even  minor  sources  of  trouble 
harass  and  disturb  me,  when  I  am  so  far  from  you.  Let 
us  pray  for  faith  and  confidence  in  God  alone.  I  think 
of  going  to  lona ;  it  is  sacred  and  classic  ground.  May 
every  blessing  attend  my  children ! 

So  prays  their  affectionate  father. 

Leg  II  Richmond." 


96       LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN. 

"  Glasgow, 
"  My  own  dear  child, 

"On  my  return  home,  I  found  your  letter,  and 
hasten  to  give  you  a  few  lines  in  reply.  I  tliought  you 
long  in  writing,  and  welcomed  your  hand  with  much 
delight.  Indeed,  my  F — — ,  you  and  I  are  not  suffi- 
ciently intimate  in  religious  intercourse  and  correspond- 
ence; we  must  become  more  so,  and  may  God  enable 
us.  Let  us  walk  and  talk,  and  sit  and  talk  more  on 
these  subjects  than  we  have  done.  Time  flies,  events 
are  uncertain,  providences,  health,  and  life  are  transient 
and  mutable.  I  hope  the  ensuing  winter  will  unite  us 
closer  than  ever.  Winter  is  my  domestic  dependence; 
your  heart  is  with  me  in  this  feeling.  I  much  regret 
that  circumstances  have  prevented  your  travelling  with 
me  this  year,  but  I  hope  next  summer  will  be  more 
propitious.  When  I  return,  we  will  read  and  talk  over 
together  such  scenes  as  we  mutually  love,  and  you  shall 
hear  of  my  interesting  journey  to  Staffa  and  lona. 
Nature,  grace,  history,  antiquity,  compassion,  taste, 
and  twenty  more  subjects  and  affections  all  meet  there. 
I  will  match  the  festival  which  I  gave  to  the  poor  child- 
ren of  Icolumbkill  on   St.   Columba's    day,    with   the 

gala   of  Mr. .      Moreover,    I  wrote   a  right  noble 

copy  of  verses  for  the  children  to   sing.     Mr.   M.  is  a 
truly  valuable  man.     He  grows  daily  m  my  estimation, 

I  feel  much  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  my  dear 'a 

union;  her  tender  heart  is  fixed,  although  her  affec 
tions  are  strongly  bound  to  her  family.  Encourage  and 
elevate  her  spirits  when  you  write,  for  her  nerves  are 
delicate.  It  is  a  great  question,  and  God,  I  trust,  is 
settling  it  for  her.  '^-  ^-  *  *  --  *  Mr.  M.  is  a  man 
of  God,  and  mak^s  religion  and  conscience  the  ground 
of  all  he  says  and  does. 

''Kead  the  life  of  Mrs.  Isabella  Graham  of  New 
York    Mr.   M's.   aunt.     It  will  shovr  you  the   sort  of 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN".       97 

piety  of  Mr  M.  and  his  family,  all  of  whom  are  valuable 
characters. 

*'  What  a  terrible  storm  you  had  !  The  Lord  rides  in 
the  storm.  '  He  can  create,  and  he  destroy.'  I  hope  you 
do  not  forget  him  in  the  midst  of  agreeable  society.  The 
care  of  a  soul,  its  natural  departures  from  God,  its  prone- 
ness  to  make  idols  of  the  creature,  and  the  extreme  nar- 
rowness of  the  strait  gate,  are  subjects  for  our  deep 
meditation.  Alas!  how  many  among  our  respectable 
and  decent  friends  and  acquaintances  are  still  in  an 
unconverted  state,  strangers  to  the  real  experience  of  the 
heart,  and  unacquainted  with  the  love  of  Christ !  Care- 
lessness and  comparative  insensibility  ruin  more  souls 
than  deliberate  acts  of  resolute  iniquity.  You  have  need 
to  be  jealous  over  your  own  soul,  and  to  watch  and  pray 
that  you  enter  not  into  temptation.  Real  piety  is  a  very 
different  thing  from  mere  decent  profession,  educational 
propriety,  and  orderly  conduct ;  yet  without  it  none  can 
enter  the  kingdom  of  God.  Where  a  deep  sense  of  guilt 
and  depravity  does  not  exist,  all  else  is  but  a  mere  name; 
and  it  is  much  easier  to  admit  this  as  a  doctrine,  than  to 
feel  and  act  upon  it  as  a  truth.  I  want  my  children  to 
be  living  commentaries  on  my  sermons  and  principles. 
I  long  to  see  them  adorning  the  gospel  of  Christ  in  all 
things,  and  that  from  the  inner  man  of  the  heart.    I  have 

no  objection  to  Mr.' 's  being  liberal  and  hospitable 

I  only  lament  that  among  the  lower  classes,  dancing  and 
debauchery  are  nearly  synonymous,  and  therefore  I  must 
absent  myself  from  such  fetes.  So  poor  dear  S.  W.*  is 
dead.  To  what  trials  are  the  best  Christians  for  a  time 
given  up.  Frequently,  during  delirium,  the  most  holy 
have  appeared  the  most  wicked  in  thought  and  action. 
But  of  her  Christianity  I  cannot  have  a  doubt,  "^  "^  ^ 
*     I  saw  last  week.     *     *     Oh!  how  time  flies,. 

*  One  of  his  pocr  parishioners. 


98  LETTEES    TQ    HIS     CHILI>EEK- 

generation  succeeds  generation,  like  waves  on  the  sea ; 
but  wliither  shall  we  float  at  last  ?  Much,  much,  yery 
much  goes  to  secure  a  safe  entrance  into  the  eternal  har- 
bour of  peace  and  safety.  All  other  s>ubjects  sink  into 
insignificance  when  compared  with  this.  How  foolish, 
how  wicked  are  we  in  this  matter  I  Farewell,  my  be- 
loved F ,  much  of  my  domestic  comfort  depends  on 

you ;  love  your  father,  for  indeed  he  loves  you.  When 
and  while  you  can,  be  a  prop  to  Ms  feelings  and  spirits. 
The  period  is  now  arrived  when  I  look  for  the  harvest 
of  filial  intercourse,  of  which  I  sowed  the  seeds  with 
such  anxiety  in  your  infancy  and  childhood.  May  every 
blessing  be  with  you,  in  time  and  eternity.  Seven  times 
a  day  I  pray,  and  say,  'God  bless  my  dear  wife — God 
bless  my  dear  children — God  bless  my  dear  parishion- 
ers— and  God  bless  my  own  immortal  soul' 

This  comes  from  the  heart  of  your  loving  Father, 

Legh  Eichmond." 

Extract  of  a  letter  to  his  daughter  F. 

"  I  saw  A — —  M last  week  •  she  is  like  no  one 

else ;  it  is  a  little  Paradise  to  be  where  she  is ;  simplicity, 
fluency,  devotedness,  natural  talent,  and  gracious  acquire- 
ments at  eighty-four,  concentrate  a  kind  of  glory,  play- 
ing around  her  head  and  heart.     Mr. has  left , 

there  are  great  lamentations,  but  I  think  I  see  the  hand 
of  God  in  it ;  there  is  always  danger  when  the  minister, 
rather  than  the  Master,  is  the  object  of  delight ;  Tor  such 
religion  will  soon  decay  and  dissipate.     One  thing,  my 

F ,    is  most  certain,    that  a   great   deal  more  than 

commonly  manifests  itself  amongst  the  generality  of 
rich  and  genteel  professors,  is  necessary  to  adorn,  if  not 
constitute,  real,  vital,  saving  religion^  The  manners,  the 
opinions,  the  luxuries,  the  indolence,  the  trifling,  the 
waste  of  time  and  talents,  the  low  standard,  the  fastidi- 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN"        99 

ousness,  the  pride,  and  many  more  etceteras,  stand 
awfully  in  the  way  of  religiqus  attainment  and  progress ; 
hence  it  is  that  in  so  many  instances,  the  religion  of  the 
cottage  so  much  outstrips  that  of  the  mansion ;  and  that 
we  derive  so  much  more  benefit  from  intercourse  with  the 
really  sincere  Christians  amongst  the  poor,  than  amongst 
the  too  refined,  showy,  luxurious,  and  dubious  professors 
of  the  higher  classes.  Thank  God,  however,  there  are 
some,  though  few,  yet  delightful,  specimens  amongst  the 
rich ;  the  '  gate '  is  not  too  strait  for  some  of  the  '  camels/ 
*     *     *     And  now  allow  me,  with  a  heart  full  of  love 

and  esteem  for  my  dearly  loved  F ,  to  ask  whether 

you  have  considered  the  subject  of  my  last  letter ;  do 
you  not  see,  on  mature  examination  of  your  own  heart, 
that  religion  has  not  done  all  that  it  ought  to  have  done 
in  this  respect  for  my  dearest  child ;  has  not  something 
of  discontent  been  mingled  with  the  lawful  exercise  of 
affection ;  has  not  Christ  been  in  some  degree  robbed  of 
his  love  and  duty  in  your  heart  of  late?  I  entreat  my 
dear  child  to  take  tliis  frank,  but  affectionate  reproof  in 
good  part."  I  love  you  so  dearly,  that  I  want  to  see  you 
holy,  happy,  and  heavenly.  True,  deep,  and  unfeigned 
piety  will  alone  induce  a  right  frame ;  not  the  fretful, 
weariedness  of  this  world,  but  the  mind  reconciled  to  all 
the  dealings  of  the  Lord,  because  they  are  Sis,  and  that 
for  both  worlds.  I  gave  a  historical,  antiquarian,  eccle- 
siastical, picturesque,  mineralogical  aud  religious  lecture 
on  lona  and  Staffa,  to  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  in  the  school-room  at  Olney  last  Wednes- 
day. I  spoke  for  two  hours  and  a  half.  I  produced  fifty 
illustrative  pictures,  and  all  my  pebbles  and  other  spe- 
cimens. I  did  the  same  at  Emberton.  All  expressed 
satisfaction. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  R." 


100  LETTERS    TO    HIS    OHILDREN. 

"  Turvey,  Dec.  1824. 

"I    think,    dearest    F ,  that    the  plan   which  I 

suggested  will  be  best  for  your  return  home.  Give  me 
a  letter  to  precede  you.  'Hie  sumus,'  quiet,  comfort- 
able, and  uniform  in  our  daily  course,  without  many 
striking  events  to  diversify  it  by  day  or  by  night; 
unless  it  be  that  the  younger  bairns  are  rather  noisy 
by  day,  and  the  cats  in  the  garden  outrageously  so  by 
night.      Mamma  is  detained  at  Bath,  by  the  lingering 

and  precarious    state    of    Mrs.   C .     Willy  is    not 

materially  different.  My  dear,  my  much-loved  boy! 
No  one  will  ever  know  what  I  have  inwardly  under- 
gone on  his  account  since  May  last.  I  have  no  reason 
to  doubt  that  his  mind  is  in  a  good  state,  but  I  think 
its  exercises  are  somewhat  too  dependant  on  the  fluctu- 
ations of  his  body.  I  entreat  you,  when  restored  to  his 
companionship,  to  second  every  wish  of  my  heart  in 
promoting  serious,  devotional,  and  determinate  piety 
and  occupation  of  heart.  I  sometimes  fear  that  his 
mind  is  too  playful,  too  comparatively  careless,  in  the 
midst  of  carefulness.  He  is  an  invalid  of  too  preca- 
rious a  class  to  trifle,  or  to  be  trifled  with.  Watch  over 
his  besetting  infirmities,  and  aim,  without  appearing  to 
intend  it,  to  correct  them. 

''  Many  persons,  God  be  praised,  appear  at  this  time  to 
be  under  serious  impressions,  and  the  Lord's  work  in 
this  parish  is  evidently  advancing.  I  earnestly  wish  to 
see  it  so  under  my  own  roof,  as  well  as  in  my  neigh- 
bours* cottages.      Yes,  my  F ,  my  own  loved  child, 

I  wish  to  witness  more  positive,  decided,  unequivocal 
demonstrations  of  it  in  your  own  heart.*  Beware  of 
substituting  mere  sentimentalism  for  vital  experience ; 
and  any,  however  subtle,  species  of  idolatry  for  the 
simple,  sincere,  unsophisticated  love  of  Jesus; — Jesus, 
the  sinner's  refuge !  —  Jesus  the  sinner's  friend  !  —  Jesus, 
the  sinner's  companion.      Beware  of  the  fascinating  but 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  101 

dangerous  tribe  of  poets,  fictionists,  story-tellers,  and 
dramatists,  whose  writings  steal  away  the  heart  from 
God,  secretly  poison  the  spring  of  devotion,  create  false 
standards  of  judgment  and  rob  God  of  his  honour. 
Never  let  the  ignis  fatuus  of  genius  beguile  you  into  the 
swamps  and  puddles  of  immorality,  much  less  of  infi- 
delity: Hhe  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and 
desperately  wicked :  who  can  know  it  ?  '  Ten  thousand 
thieves  and  robbers  within  are  continually  defrauding 
God  of  our  best  affections ;  they  assume  imposing  atti- 
tudes, array  themselves  in  false  attire,  speak  flattering 
words,  'prophecy  smooth  things,'  delude  the  imagina- 
tion and  darken  the  soul.  '  Watch  and  pray,  that  ye 
enter  not  into  temptation.'  Always  keep  a  searching 
experimental  book  in  private  reading,  to  accompany 
the  study  and  daily  reading  of  the  word  of  God.  Be- 
ware of  trifling  and  mere  gossiping  conversation,  even 
with  religious  friends :  the  afore-named  thieves  and 
robbers  are  never  more  active  than  under  the  plausible 
guise  of  a  pleasant  but  unprofitable  intercourse  with 
those  whom,  on  good  grounds,  we  esteem. 

"  '  The  time  is  short,'  should  be  written  on  every  one, 
and  everything  we  see.  Dear  Charlotte  Buchanan  is 
now  gone  to  the  rest  that  remaineth  for  the  people  of 
God.  Do  you  not  now  feel,  that  had  ytDu  anticipated 
so  speedy  a  bereavement,  many  a  thought  would  have 
been  cherished,  many  a  word  uttered,  many  a  conversa- 
tion held,  more  congenial  with  the  idea  of  her  early 
flight  from  time  to  eternity,  from  the  visible  to  the 
invisible  world  ?  But  you  know  not  who  may  go  next. 
If,  then,  while  health  may  still  bloom  on  the  cheek,  so 
much  consideration  is  due,  how  much  more  so,  when 
sickness  and  anticipated  decay  warn  us,  that  those  we 
love  may  not  long  be  with  us.  I  deeply  feel  that  our 
general  standard  of  social  and  domestic  religion  is  too 

low.     It  does  not  sufficiently  partake  of  the  more  simple 

y* 


102  LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN. 

and  pure  vitality  of  tlie  poor  man's  piety.  The  cottage 
outstrips  the  drawing-room,  in  the  genuine  characteris- 
tics of  the  gospel  efficacy.  The  religion  of  the  one  is 
more  like  wine, — that  of  the  other,  wine  and  water  in 
various  degrees  of  mixture.  There  is  not  only  to  be 
found  in  the  religious  world,  a  solid,  substantial,  con- 
sistent, and  devoted  character,  but  there  is  also  what 
may  be  termed  a  pretty  genteel  sort  of  evangelism, 
which  too  well  combines  with  the  luxurious  ease  and 
partial  acquiescence  of  the  world,  and  the  flesh,  not  to 
say  of  the  devil  also.  But  such  kind  of  religion  will  not 
prepare  the  soul  for  sickness,  death,  and  eternity,  or 
will,  at  best,  leave  it  a  prey  to  the  most  fearful  doubts, 
or,  still  more  to  be  feared,  the  delusions  of  false  peace. 
The  way  that  leads  to  eternal  life  is  much  more  narrow 
than  many  of  our  modern  professors  are  aware  of:  the 
gate  is  too  straight  to  allow  all  their  trifling,  and  self- 
will,  and  fastidiousness,  and  carnal-mindedness,  to  press 
through  it.  The  gospel  is  a  system  of  self-denial;  its 
dictates  teach  us  to  strip  ourselves,  that  we  may  clothe 
others ;  they  leave  us  hungry,  that  we  may  have  where- 
with to  feed  others;  and  send  us  barefooted  among 
the  thorns  of  the  world,,  rather  than  silvershod,  with 
mincing  steps  to  walk  at  our  ease  amongst  its  snares. 
When  our  Lord  was  asked,  'Are  there  few  that 
shall  be  saved?'  he  answered  neither  yes  nor  no; 
but  said,  ^Strive  to  enter  in  at  the  straight  gate,'  and 
this*  word  'strive,'  might  be  translated  'agonize.'  Be- 
ware of  belonging  to  that  class,  which  Mrs.  More  inge- 
niously calls  'the  borderers.'  Choose  whom  you  will 
serve,  and  take  care  not  to  prefer  Baal.  Ask  yourself 
every  night,  what  portion  of  the  past  day  have  I  given 
to  God,  to  Christ,  to  devotion,  to  improvement,  to  bene- 
volent exertion,  to  effectual  growth  in  grace?  Weep 
for  the  deficiencies  you  therein  discover,  and  pray  for 
pardon  and  brighter  progress.    We  intend  next  Thurs- 


'       LfiTTKRS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  103 

day  to  give  a  little  feast  to  a  great  company  of  the  poor 
children  of  Turvey.  Dear  Willy  will  not  be  able  this 
year  to  explain  the  magic  lantern,  and  talk  to  them 
about  *  Lions  and  Whittingtons/  so  we  must  try  to  be 

optical  without    H will  act  behind  the  scenes,  but 

make  no  speeches.         *         *         ^  *     I  bope  to 

hear  a  better  account  of  Mrs.  W ,  to  whom  present 

my  very  affectionate  regards.  From  my  heart  I  wish 
you  a  merry  Christmas^  and  a  happy  new  year  when  it 
comes,  St,  James  explains  '  merry.'  (James  v.  13,)  so 
does  our  Lord,  (Luke  xv.  24,)  May  such  merry-mak- 
ings be  ours.     Our  love  to  all.     Tell  Mr.  M to  write 

to  Wilberforca  I  want  correspondents  who  will  do  him 
good,  and  not  trifle.  I  am  to  preach  two  missionary 
sermons  at  Cambridge  on  the  thirteenth.      Farewell,  my 

beloved  F ;  come  quickly  here,  and  be  assured  how 

truly  I  am, 

Your  Mthful  loving  father, 

Legh  Eichmond.'* 

January  6,  1825. 

'*My  DEAR  F y 

^*  Your  communication  is  just  such  as  I  wish  you 
often  and  often  again  to  repeat.  Let  your  heart  be  con- 
fidential, and  you  will  ever  find  mine  responsive  to  it. 
■^  *  *  *  "^  *  May  no  trifles  ever 
wean  your  affections  from  the  unspeakably  important 
subjects  of  eternity.  Idols  are  bewitching,  dangerous 
things,  and  steal  away  the  heart  from  God.  The  most 
lawful  things  may  become  idols,  by  fixing  an  unlawful 
degree  of  affection  upon  them.  One  reason  of  the  difii- 
culties  with  which  you  meet  on  the  subject  of  prayer 
may  be^  the  not  sufficiently  looking  by  faith  unto 
Christ.  Essential  as  prayer  is,  both  as  a  privilege,  an 
evidence,  an  instrument  of  good,  and  a  source  of  every 
blessing;    yet   it    is   only  the  iu^rcessory  prayer   of 


104      LETTEES  TO  HIS  CHILDREN. 

Christ  that  can  render  our  prayers  acceptable  and  effi- 
cacious, and  it  is  only  by  lively  faith  in  the  great  In- 
tercessor that  we  can  obtain  a  heart  to  pray.  Thus 
faith  and  pray-er  act  in  a  kind  of  circle  in  our  minds, 
and  each  produces,  (experimentally)  and  is  produced, 
by  the  aid  of  the  other.  I  am  glad  you  like  Mr.  Bick- 
ersteth's  little  book  on  prayer,  —  all  his  publications 
are  good.  There  are  many  books,  as  well  as  general 
conversations,  about  religious  matters,  which,  after  all 
do  not  bring  home  true  religion  to  the  heart.  Eeligious 
gossiping  is  a  deceitful  thing,  and  deceives  many.  How 
many  professors  of  religion  will  utter  twenty  flippant 
remarks,  pro  or  con.  upon  a  preacher,  where  one  will 
lay  his.  remarks  to  heart.  How  many  look  more  to  the 
vessel  than  to  the  excellency  of  the  treasure  contained 
in  it.  Some  people  cannot  relish  their  tea  or  coffee, 
unless  served  in  a  delicate  cup,  with  a  pretty  pattern 
and  a  gilt  edge.  Let  poor  dear  Charlotte  Buchanan's 
sudden  call  from  time  to  eternity,  warn  us  how  needful 
it  is  to  '  die  daily  ; '  not  to  trifle  with  our  souls,  when 
eternity  may  be  so  near ;  nor  to  boast  of  the  morrow, 
when  we  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.  Willy 
is  anxious  for  your  return ;  he  droops  at  present,  and 
wishes  to  have  his  dearest  friends  near  him.  *  *  * 
I  rejoice  to  find  your  recent  meditations  have  opened  to 
your  conscience  besetting  infirmities.  Press  forward  my 
child;  let  them  not  gain  an  ascendency.  Beware  of 
mere  sentimentalism,  of  satire,  of  fastidiousness,  towards 
persons  and  things.  Beware  of  bigotry  and  prejudice, 
of  procrastination,  of  the  love  of  fictions,  of  dangerous 
though  fascinating  poets,  &;c.  *  *  «  ^  -k: 
I  wish  you,  my  love,  to  attach  yourself  to  visiting  the 
sick,  and  conversing  usefully  with  the  poor;  to  the 
instruction  of  poor  children  ;  to  religious  correspondence 
and  conversation,  with  a  few  sincere  friends ;  and  partic- 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILDREN.  105 

ularly  strive  to  commence  and  continue  spiritual  conver- 
sation with  our  dear  "Wily- 

"I  lately  watched  the  young  moon  declining  in  the 
western  sky — it  shone  sweetly.  Sometimes  a  cloud  shot 
across  the  disk — sometimes  a  floating  mist  partially 
obscured  it,  alternately  it  was  bright  again;  it  some- 
times silvered  the  edge  of  the  very  cloud  that  hid  it  from 
eight.  At  length  the  lower  horn  touched  the  horizon, 
then  the  upper  horn,  and  then  it  wholly  disappeared. 
Yenus  remained  to  cheer  the  gloom.  I  said  to  myself, 
'  There  is  the  decline  of  my  loved  boy,  and  there  is  the 
star  of  hope.' 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  KiCHMOND." 

"London,  June  25,  1825. 
"  Dear  F.  and  dear  H., 
"Between  the  evening  and  morning  services  of  this 
day,  I  have  a  leisure  hour,  in  which  I  feel  as  if  I  should 
like  to  sit  down  and  talk  with  you  two.  I  miss  our 
early  morning  exercises  much,  and  this  for  the  present 
must  be  the  substitute  on  my  part.  I  have  nothing  very 
particular  to  recount,  only  that  I  tiave  been  to  a  few 
places,  where  I  was  last  summer  with  my  beloved  Wil- 
berforce,  and  I  have  indulged  the  silent  tear,  as  I 
retraced  incidents  never  again  to  recur.  At  some  places, 
where  my  friends  remember  his  visits  and  conversations, 
I  am  asked,  '  How  he  is  ? '  with  interest  in  their  man- 
ner ;  and  I  have  to  tell  how  he  has  taken  his  flight  to 
another  and  better  world  ;  and  it  affects  me  greatly  so  to 
do.  I  know  not  how  it  is  with  me,  in  regard  to  that 
dear  boy's  loss,  but  I  talk  less,  and  think  more  than  ever 
about  him.  The  fortnight  preceding,  and  the  one  suc- 
ceeding his  death,  are  indelibly  graven  on  my  heart's 
recollections,  and  sometimes  overpower  me,  in  a  way  of 
which   none   of  you   have   any   real  idea.     Sometimes 


106  LETTEES    TO    HIS    CHILDKEN. 

my  mind  is  strengtTiened,  but  at  others  weakened 
by  these  reflections.  I  am  s(5metimes  comforted,  at 
others  terrified  by  these  exercises  of  mind.  With 
what  liveliness  do  the  scenes  of  our  northern  tour 
press  upon  my  mind:  the  lovely  isle  of  Bute  with 
all  its  magnificent  scenery,  the  incomparable  beauties 
of  Loch  Lomond  and  Loch  Long,  with  their  hospitable 
friendships ;  the  wild  loveliness  of  Inverary,  and  Loch 
Awe :  the  fine  views  on  the  Firth  of  Clyde,  with  the 
moral  and  intellectual  characteristics  of  many  a  kind 
friend;  the  steam-boats,  the  carts,  the  cars,  the  moun- 
tains, all  associate  with  him,  and  are  endeared  to  me 
beyond  expression.  I  linger  over  all  the  spots  we  visited 
together,  from  Loch  Awe  to  Glasgow,  Carlisle,  Keswick, 
Woodhouse,  Matlock,  &c.  to  Turvey.  I  love  to  think  of 
our  private  reading  in  my  little  bed-room  at  Rothsay; 
his  first  Communion  at  Greenock,  and  then  to  connect  all 
with  his  closing  days.  It  is  my  weakness,  my  fault,  my 
misfortune,  that  I  cannot  express  more  of  my  mind  and 

feelings  to  you  both.     Dear,  dear  H !  you  are  now 

become  the  prop  and  stay  of  my  declining  years,  think 
much  of  the  station  in  which  God  has  placed  you.  My 
first-born  is  a  distant  wanderer,  and  God  knows  when  or 
whether  I  shall  see  him  again  on  earth.  My  second  boy 
is  taken  from  me,  you  are  my  third,  but  now  my  first. 
Be  such  to  your  two  younger  brothers,  particularly  to 

L ;    he   needs  your  constant  superintending   care: 

watch  over  him ;  do  not  leave  him  to  seek  unprofitable 
associates ;  cherish  the  little  germ  of  hope  which  God 
has  planted  in  my  bosom  concerning  him;  let  your 
example  influence,  and  your  kind  attentions  encourage 
him  in  every  good  way  ;  and  think  much  of  your  own 
soul.  Beware  of  declensions — remember  the  last  words 
of  dear  Wilberforce  —  live  up  to  his  advice.  How  my 
heart  yearns  over  you  and  all  your  prospects;     What 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    CHILD  11  EN.  107 

are  you  ?  What  are  you  to  be,  my  loved  cliild  ?  "Write 
to  me  freely, 

"  And  my  F also  ;  are  you  as  much  alive  to  spir- 
itual things,  as  when  you  hastened  to  the  dying  bed  of 
dear  Willy, —  as  when  you  wept  over  his  coffin?  My 
child,  dread  all  decays,  and  may  the  flame  of  spiritual 
piety  never  grow  dim  amidst  the  mists  of  unworthier 
speculations.  Visit  the  cottages, — forsake  not  the  poor, 
for  your  Father's  sake. 

"I  have  been  this  morning  where  you  might  least 
have  expected  to  find  me;  but  I  went  not  from  curi- 
osity, but  from  a  conscientious  wish  to  know  and  judge 
for  myself,  viz,  to  the  Koman  Catholic  Chapel  in  Moor- 
field,  to  hear  high  mass,  I  was  astonished  at  the  deco- 
rations, and  the  gorgeous  dresses  of  the  bishop  and 
priests ;  charmed  with  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the 
music;  disgusted  at  the  ceremonial  mummery  of  the 
service ;  and  unconvinced  by  the  bishop's  eloquent 
sermon  in  defence  of  transubstantiation.  It  was  all 
illusion,  delusion,  and  collusion.  The  service  lasted 
near  four  hours.  I  bless  God  more  than  ever  for  true 
Protestantism.  I  shall  hear  the  Messiah  performed  to- 
morrow. Such  music  I  love ;  it  lifts  my  soul  to  heaven. 
I  am  sick  and  disgusted  with  common  light  modern 
songs, — they,  are  unfit  for  Christians.  Oh !  what 
music  is  my  Willy  enjoying  in  heaven.  Shall  we  all 
enjoy  it  with  him  ?  The  question  often  sinks  me  in  the 
dust.  My  dear,  my  most  dear  children !  press  forward 
to  the  prize  of  the  mark  of  our  high  calling  in  Christ 
Jesus.  There  is  an  immense  gulf  to  be  passed.  Who 
is  sufficient  for  these  things  ? 

"  Say  many  kind  and  pastoral  things  for  me  to  my 
dear  people  at  Turvey.  Truly  I  have  them  in  my  heart. 
—  My  children  all,  I  kiss  you  from  a  distance ;  believe 
how  much  and  how  entirely  I  love  you. 

*****  4t 


108      LETTERS  TO  HIS  CHILDREN. 

"  P.  S. — Monday.-—!  am  just  returned  from  hearing 
-•  tiie  Messiah.  In  the  two  grand  chorusses,  I  thought  I 
could  hear  my  Willy's  voice,  and  it  quite  overcame  me- 
Past,  present;  and  future,  mingled  in  strange  and  affect- 
ing combination.  These  feelings  are  sometimes  too 
much  for  your  poor  father." 


LIFE.  109 


CHAPTEE   lY. 

'A  man  that  is  young  in  years,  may  be  old  in  hours,  if  he  have  lost  no 
time.*— Bacon. 

It  may  easily  be  conceived  witli  what  anxiety  Mr.  E. 
would  contemplate  the  removal  of  Lis  boys  from  the 
paternal  roof,  wben  their  age  would  render  it  unavoida- 
ble. The  difficulty  of  placing  young  persons  in  suit- 
able situations  is  greatly  increased  in  the  present  day, 
by  the  numbers  who  are  pressing  into  every  trade  and 
profession,  and  by  the  modern  practice  of  excluding 
youths  from  the  master's  family ;  a  practice  which  may 
conduce  to  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  the  latter, 
but  which  necessarily  exposes  the  clerk  and  the  appren- 
tice to  the  worst  temptations.  Mr.  E.  knew  perhaps 
less  than  many  other  parents  how  to  place  out  his 
children  to  advantage.  He  was  not  wise  for  this,  world, 
and  though  few  had  fairer  opportunities,  or  friends 
more  able  to  advise  and  help  him,  he  shrunk  from 
availing  himself  of  these  advantages,  to  a  degree  which 
we  cannot  approve,  while  we  respect  his  delicacy  and 
paramount  regard  to  the  honour  of  religion.  He  was 
not  the  ablest  counsellor  under  such  circumstances, 
except  indeed  on  one  point,  that  the  welfare  of  the  soul 
should  be  the  governing  principle  in  the  selection  of  a 
profession.  He  gave  an  unbounded  liberty  of  choice  to 
his  children,  with  one  exception,  an  exception  which  it 
is  difficult  to  imagine  would  not  equally  be  made  by 
every  Christian  parent.  The  profession  of  arms,  if  not 
in  itself  unlawful,  is  so  irreconcileable  with  the  spirit 
of  a  peaceable  religion ;  and  a  life  of  comparative  idle- 
ness, or  of  activity  amidst  the  horrors  of  destruction,  is 

10 


110  A    soldier's    LIFE. 

SO  repugnant  to  tlie  principles  and  feelings  of  a  dis- 
ciple, whose  master  came  not  to  destroy,  but  to  save 
men's  lives,  that  a  right-minded  man  can  scarcely  be 
supposed  to  admit  a  preference  for  it.  Persons  of  un- 
doubted piety  have  been  discovered  in  camps,  as  well 
as  in  the  peaceful  fields,  but  it  has  generally  been 
found  that  their  knowledge  of  God  was  subsequent  to 
their  choice  of  their  profession.  The  Christian  under  an 
actual  engagement  in  a  service,  may  decide  ''to  abide 
in  the  calling  wherein  he  is  called,"  and  honour  God  in 
his  vocation ;  but  this  is  a  widely  different  determina- 
tion from  a  choice  made  with  the  knowledge  of  peace 
and  love  in  Christ  Jesus. 

One  of  those  events  which  often  inspire  a  preference 
for  a  soldier's  life,  I  mean  the  show  of  military  parade, 
excited  this  inclination  in  Mr.  Richmond's  younger  son. 
To  this  choice  Mr.  R.  expressed  his  dissent  in  the 
strongest  terms.  "  Any  thing  but  this,"  said  he,  "  any 
thing  but  this — the  very  mention  of  a  military  life  fills 
me  with  horror ;  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  a  child 
of  mine  engaging  in  scenes  of  bloodshed  and  destruc- 
tion. Ko  consideration  on  earth  could  extort  my  consent. 
It  would  make  me  really  miserable." 

The  following  letter  to  his  daughter  F is  the  best 

transcript  of  his  thoughts  and  feelings  on  this  subject. 

"I  grant,  dearest  F ,  you  may  charge  me  with 

the  same  thing  in  which  you  have  often  been  culpable ; 
I  have  no  very  good  reason  to  assign  for  delay,  and 
therefore  will  rather  take  my  share  of  blame,  than  fur- 
nish you  with  a  bad  argument,  or  a  bad  example,  as  to 

the  duty  of  letter- writing I  rejoice  in  your  account 

of  Turvey,  a  spot  that  is  always  in  my  mind's  eye, 
when  not  in  my  sight.  Dear  loved  parochial  and 
domestic  village !     Thou  art  endeared  to  me  by  a  thou- 


LETTEE    TO    HIS    DAUGHTEE.  Ill 

sand  considerations,  both  as  it  respects  the  living  and 
the  dead.  '  When  I  forget  thee,  let  my  right  hand 
forget  her  cunning.'  No  succession  of  time  or  circum- 
stance has  weaned,  or  ever  can  wean,  my  heart  from 
the  chancel- vault.  There  is  a  young  triumvirate  increas- 
ingly endeared  to  me,  one  in  heaven  and  two  on 
earth,   and   their   names   shall   be   recorded  together, — 

"Wilberforce,   Henry,   and  C .     Dear  boys!  born  in 

the  same  village,  companions  in  the  same  school,  part- 
ners in  the  same  recreations,  partakers  of  the  same 
eucharistic  table,  friends  in  every  social  pursuit,  and 
dare  I  say,  heirs  of  the  same  glory  ?  United  by  the  ties 
of  the  same  grace  on  earth,  may  they  share  the  same 
felicity  in  heaven.  I  am  glad  that  your  meditations 
have  been,  of  late,  deep  and  important.  Pray  that  they 
may  continue  so.  Life  is  short ;  eternity  is  at  hand ; 
banish,  therefore,  all  needless  reserve,  banish  levity, 
banish  dulness,  be  much  with  Christ  in  prayer,  and,  I 
had  well  nigh   added,  much  with  your  father  in   his 

study.     Cultivate  an  interior  acquaintance  with  H , 

and  do  all  you  can  with  L and  T .     There  is 

something  wanting  amongst  us,  whether  in  family  duet 
or  chorus,  as  to  really  improving  and  spiritual  conver- 
sation: too  much  worldly  bustle,  too  much  regard  to 
passing  events,  too  much  consequent  alienation  from 
the  one,  the  only  thing  needful.  Without  inquiring 
who  is  the  most  in  fault,  let  each  of  us  strive  to  resist 

the  evil  and  cleave  to  the  good When  I  think  of 

my  boys  and  C ,  I  bless  God  for  village  seclusion, 

and  greatly  rejoice  that  they  have  been  kept  at  a  com- 
parative distance  from  the  evil  communications  which 
corrupt  good  manners.  The  world,  even  in  its  apparently 
harmless  form,  is  a  terrible  snare  to  the  young  and  unin- 
formed mind... I  before  gave  you  my  opinion   on 

Sunday  evening  walks,  I  have  often  earnestly  denounced 
them  to  the  people,  and  need  not  add  a  word  to  you  on 


112        RESIDENCE    AT    THE     UNIVERSITY. 

tills  head There  ]s  a  subject  which  often  hangs 

heavily  on  my  spirits,  I  mean   my  poor  dear  T 's 

inclination  for  a  military  life.  Hating  war  as  I  do  from 
my  very  heart ;  convinced  as  I  am  of  the  inconsistency 
of  it  with  real  Christianity ;  and  looking  on  the  pro- 
fession of  arms  as  irreconcileable  with  the  principles  of 
the  gospel,  I  should  mourn  greatly  if  one  of  my  boys 
chose  so  cruel,  and,  generally  speaking,  so  profligate  a 
line  of  life.  I  could  never  consent  to  it  on  conscientious 
grounds,  and  therefore  wish  this  bias  for  the  profession 
of  arms  to  be  discouraged.  I  dislike  and  oppose  it  with 
my  whole  heart.  May  God,  the  God  of  peace,  bless  you, 
my  much  loved  F :  Give  a  Christian  message  of  pas- 
toral love  to  ray  dear  flock ;  I  often  think  and  pray  for 
them.  Love  to  the  boys.  You  know  well  how  truly 
and  sincerely  I  am. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

Legh  Eichmond." 

The  strongest  desire  Mr.  K.  ever  expressed  with  re- 
spect to  his  children  was,  that  they  might  devote  them- 
selves to  the  service  of  the  sanctuary.  "I  have  no 
concern,"  he  used  to  say,  "about  their  temporal  pro- 
vision; God  will  take  care  of  that;  but  I  should  rejoice 
to  see  every  one  of  my  boys  actively  and  usefully  en- 
gaged in  the  church  of  God."     His  son  H chose 

the  sacred  profession,  to  which  his  father  consented ; 
but  the  necessity  of  his  removal  to  the  university 
haunted  him  like  a  spectre.  He  passed  many  anxious 
days  and  sleepless  nights  in  anticipation  of  the  event ; 
and  at  times  he  seemed  to  be  in  the  deepest  trouble :  he 
talked  and  wrote  continually  about  the  possible  conse- 
quences of  it.  The  subject  seemed  to  absorb  his 
thoughts  and  depress  his  spirits:  "What  if  my  boy 
should  fall  a  victim  to  associations  which  have  blasted 
the  fairest  hopes  of  many  a  Christian  parent.     He  may 


IlESIDENCE     AT    THE     UNIVERSITY.       113 

do  without  learning,  bat  he  is  ruined  body  and  soul  if 
he  be  not  wise  unto  salvation."  Such  acute  distress 
may  appear  to  some  a  sort  of  extravagance.  It  is  true, 
feelings  of  this  order  require  control :  but  allowance 
should  be  made  for  the  overflowings  of  parental  anxiety, 
and  the  dread  of  a  transition  and  revolution  of  habits 
not  without  danger,  and  affording  just  grounds  of  appre- 
hension. There  are  occasions  in  which  it  is  difficult  to 
preserve  the  mind  in  due  balance ;  and  when  not  to  feel 
deeply,  implies  a  culpable  indifference  to  the  interests  of 
eternity,  or  at  least  a  very  low  estimate  of  their  para- 
mount importance 

Mr.  Eichmond,  as  will  appear  from  subsequent  events, 
was  standing  on  the  verge  of  eternity;  his  health  and 
spirits  had  been  greatly  shattered  by  the  severe  family 
trials  through  which  he  had  lately  been  made  to  pass ; 
and  his  feelings  on  all  subjects  connected  with  religion 
were  wrought  up  to  a  pitch  of  acuteness,  which  ren- 
dered unnecessary  contact  with  the  world  almost  insup- 
portable. There  need  seldom,  however,  be  any  dread 
of  a  glow  of  feeling  that  "  would  consume  us ; "  it  is 
much  more  to  be  deplored,  that  men  can  contemplate  the 
'^  exceeding  weight  of  things  which  are  eternal,"  with  so 
little  emotion,  and  waste  their  chief  energies  on  those 
which  endure  only  for  a  season,  and  then  flee  away  for 
ever. 

With  respect  to  our  Universities,  I  am  not  disposed 
to  join  in  the  unmeasured  and  ignorant  objurgation 
with  which  they  have  been  assailed  by  their  enemies, 
and  even  by  those  who  owe  much  of  their  eminence  in 
society  to  the  advantages  derived  from  them.  It  is 
easy  to  blame,  but  difficult  to  improve:  plausible 
theories  may  be  suggested,  and  the  rude  hand  of  revo- 
lution, under  the  specious  name  of  reform,  may  proceed 
to  experiments,  which  are  often  mischievous,  and  always 
uncertain  in  their  issue.     The  question  is  not  what  is 

10* 


114       BESIDENCE    AT    THE    UNIVERSITY. 

desirable,  but  what  is  practicable:  how  little  is  to  be 
expected  from  attempting  too  much,  is  observable  in 
the  strictness  of  statutes,  which  descend  even  to  absurd 
minutias,  compared  with  the  feeble  discipline,  which 
corrupt  beings  will  allow  to  be  enforced.  It  is  indeed 
devoutly  to  be  wished,  that  a  more  vigilant  superin- 
tendence were  exercised  over  the  private  habits  of  the 
young  men  as  to  the  facility  of  contracting  debts,  and 
of  admission  into  college  after  the  closing  of  the  gates ; 
that  something  more  of  the  spirit  of  religion  were  in- 
fused into  its  forms;  that  less  were  left  to  the  discre- 
tion of  "  the  mad  age ;  "  and  that  the  authority  and 
duty  of  the  tutor  should  not  be  confined  to  the  hours  of 
lecture.  Desirable  as  are  such  improvements  in  college 
discipline,  I  am  not  prepared  to  show  how  they  can  be 
made,  unless  the  minds  of  men  were  more  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  true  end  of  education,  the  training  a 
soul  for  eternity ;  and  I  shall  not  indulge  in  idle  decla- 
mation against  evils  which  I  may  lament,  but  cannot 
cure.  The  dangers  incident  to  inexperienced  youth  at 
the  university,  are  confessedly  great,  but  they  attach  to 
all  situations  of  their  early  career,  and  are  not  peculiar 
to  their  residence  amid  these  noble  monuments  of  an- 
cient piety  and  munificence.  Yet  a  Christian  parent, 
in  matriculating  his  son  at  college,  will  feel  increasing 
responsibility  to  commend  him  to  tlie  Spirit  of  God  for 
protection  and  guidance ;  and  to  use  every  precaution 
against  the  evil  influence  to  which  he  may  be  exposed 
from  the  corrupt  examples  of  contemporaries,  or  the  too 
grealf  liberty  allowed  to  himself.  I  would  suggest  the 
inestimable  advantages  to  be  obtained  from  the  help 
and  superintendence  of  a  private  tutor,  of  an  age  to  be 
a  companion,  and  of  talents  and  piety  sufiicient  to  make 
him  a  useful  guide>  Such  a  one,  intrusted  with  au- 
thority to  direct  his  pupil's  conduct  and  studies,  would 


ON    GOING    TO     COLLEGE.  115 

secure    every   thing  withiil  human   means,    which    an 
anxious  parent  could  desire. 

The  last  production  of  Mr.  E's  pen  was  a  paper  of 
warnings  and  instructions  for  his  son.  This  paper  was 
found  on  his  table  after  his  death,  and  was  evidently 
the  result  of  his  dying  meditations.  I  deeply  regret  that 
it  has  been  lost,  and  that  I  cannot  gratify  the  reader 
by  the  valuable  hints  which  it  might  have  suggested. 
The  subject,  however,  is  too  important  to  be  passed  over 
in  silence,  and  I  will  venture  to  supply  the  defect  by  a 
letter  of  my  own,  written  under  circumstances  not 
much  dissimilar. 

To  a  young  friend  on  going  to  College, 

"My  dear  young  Friend, 

"  You  request  my  advice  on  a  subject  which  will  pro- 
bably give  a  direction  to  your  whole  life.  I  give  it  you 
with  the  more  satisfaction,  because  I  believe  you  are  not 
one  of  those  who  ask  counsel  with  a  previous  determi- 
nation to  follow  their  own  judgment,  and  who  set  no 
value  on  experience  for  which  they  have  not  paid  the 
price  in  their  own  mistai:es :  but  are  anxiously  looking 
out  for  a  guide,  and  ready  to  follow  him.  After  twelve- 
years'  residence  in  one  of  our  Universities,  I  may  fairly 
be  supposed  to  know  something  both  of  their  dangers 
and  advantages.  I  am  aware  of  the  temptations  to 
which  you  will  be  exposed  in  your  new  situation ; 
yet  with  respect  to  myself,  I  may  assert,  that  they 
were  by  no  means  so  great  as  others  have  represented 
them, —  fewer,  and  less  dangerous  than  the  after-trials 
of  manhood,  or  even  those  of  my  boyish  days  at  school. 

"The  opportunity  you  now  have  of  acquiring  solid 
learning,  and  of  laying  the  foundation  of  all  that  will  be 
useful  to  you  in  life,  is  incalculably  valuable,  and  it 
shQuld  be  your  chief  concern   to  embrace  the  golden 


116  LETTER    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN 

moment  with  firm  and  steadj  grasp.  Accept,  then,  with 
my  best  wishes  and  prayers  for  your  welfare,  the  result 
of  past  observation  at  Alma  Mater. 

"  1.  Wherever  you  are,  in  or  out  of  the  University, 
much  will  depend  on  the  regulation  of  yourself.  We  are 
apt  to  lay  the  blame  of  our  indiscretions  and  failures  on 
our  circumstances,  and  to  suppose  that  we  should  act 
differently  under  other  influences ;  but  this  is  a  great 
mistake;  for  circumstances,  though  I  admit  they  have 
a  powerful  influence  on  our  conduct,  do  not  so  much 
form,  as  discover  our  character.  Be  'lord  of  your  own 
mind,'  and  you  will  rise  above  outward  trials.  Try, 
then,  to  understand  yourself — your  strong  and  your 
weak  points. 

'^  Begin  and  end  the  day  with  prayer ;  but  content  not 
yourself  with  an  indolent  or  hurried  exercise  of  devo- 
tion, without  heart  or  meaning,  and  a  cursory  or  irregu- 
lar glancing  at  a  passage  of  Scripture,  under  an  idea  of 
satisfying  conscience,  or  'doing  your  duty.'  Consider 
seriously  the  chief  end  of  the  appointment,  as  the  pre- 
scribed channel  of  intercourse  with  God.  Your  strength, 
success,  and  preservation  from  evil,  all  depend  on  com- 
munion with  him.  Every  thing  will  go  well  or  ill  with 
.you,  in  proportion  as  you  are  brought  into  contact  with 
the  divine  Spirit.  In  reading  the  Bible  (I  am  now  speak- 
ing of  religion  and  its  practical  application  to  your  heart 
and  conscience,  and  not  of  theology  as  a  science  and  pro- 
fession,) take  a  few  verses,  and  meditate  and  pray  over 
them  till  you  get  the  spirit  and  meaning  of  them  wrought 
into  your  own  soul.  If  you  do  not  understand  a  passage, 
you  may  apply  to  a  commentator  for  explanation ;  other- 
wise be  your  own  expositor ;  preach  to  your  own  heart, 
and  feed  on  the  word  of  God  amidst  the  aspirations  of 
prayer  and  praise,  and  heavenly  thoughts,  and  affections. 
Examine  yourself  by  it,  to  obtain  conviction  of  sin  and 
to  discover  your  defects  and  besetments, — to  judge  of 


ON     GOING     TO    COLLEGE.  117 

your  progress,  and  pray  for  uprightness  and  deep  seri- 
ousness. Look  forward  to  tlie  probable  events  of  tbe 
day,  and  seek  grace  and  support,  to  meet  trial,  and 
improve  opportunity.  Consider  tkat  you  are  entering 
society  with  a  body  of  sin  and  death,  ever  liable  to 
impart  or  receive  injury,  and  while  you  carefully  guard 
against  the  approaches  of  evil,  you  should  aim,  like 
your  master,  to  'go  about  doing  good.'  I  think  an  hour 
may  be  well  employed  in  this  holy  exercise.  At  night,. 
a  shorter  time  may  suf&ce ;  for  the  spirits  will  flag,  and 
the  body  be  wearied.  The  efficacy  of  prayer  does  not 
depend  on  the  length  of  time  employed  in  acts  of  devo- 
tion :  God  thinks  of  mercy,  and  not  sacrifice,  and  so 
must  you.  Such  remarks  are  applicable  to  all  persons 
and  situations ;  but  are  more  especially  important  to 
one  in  your  circumstances.  You  are  now  deprived  of 
your  father's  conversation,  and  the  devotional  exercises 
of  the  family,  and  you  have  need  to  redouble  your  dili- 
gence in  private  devotion.  Kemember,  then,  that  your 
first  and  greatest  trial  will  be  in  your  closet ;  and  that  if 
you  fail  here,  all  will  go  wrong  with  you  throughout  the 
day.  If  you  rob  God,  to  turn  to  Euclid  or  Euripides, 
or  hurry  away  to  chapel  without  private  prayer,  be- 
cause you  have  given  way  to  sloth  —  other  motives  may 
stimulate  you  to  be  diligent  in  business;  but  you  will 
not  long  continue  'fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord:' 
and  if  his  Holy  Spirit  forsake  you, —  and  he  will  forsake 
you  if  you  grieve  him  by  neglect  of  the  means  of  grace, 
— you  will  fall  into  many  inconsistencies,  and  in  the 
end  lose  all  love  for  religion  and  concern  for  your  soul, 
and  perhaps  by  your  conduct  discredit  yourself  even  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world. 

"  It  is  a  good  habit  to  keep  some  subject  in  mind  for 
occasional  employment, —  a  promise, —  a  precept — an 
attribute  of  God,  on  which  to  meditate  in  every  vacant 
moment.     There   are   intervals   in  the  course    of  your 


118  LETTER    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN 

college  duties,  when  you  cannot  sit  down  to  serious 
studies.  An  idle  moment  furnishes  at  all  times  a  nidus 
for  a  temptation, 

"2.  Be  very  cautious  in  the  formation  of  friendships. 
Yonr  religious  and  general  improvement  will  be  closely 
connected  w.ith  the  character  of  your  associates. 

"You  will  find  me  correct  in  dividing  the  young 
men  into  two  classes;  of  •which  one  affects  to  despise, 
and  the  other  professes  to  honour  religion.  The  former 
class  comprises  three  sets  or  parties,  all  agreeing  to  live 
without  God  in  the  world,  but  differing  in  their  man- 
ners and  pursuits.  The  first  of  the  three  are  the  men 
of  family  and  fortune,  who  spend  their  time  in  amuse- 
ment, attending  as  little  as  possible  to  the  studies  of  the 
place.  For  the  most  part  they  are  men  of  profligate 
habits,  though  not  all  equally  vicious.  These  call  them- 
selves the  gentlemen.  There  is  another  set  of  young 
men  who  pass  by  the  name  of  the  scamps,  who  are  not 
better  disposed  than  the  former ;  but  who  have  not  the 
same  means  of  doing  mischief  to  themselves  or  others : 
they  are,  however,  quite  as  ignorant,  idle,  and  thought- 
less, with  the  addition  of  coarseness  and  vulgarity  of 
manners.  To  neither  of  these  classes  must  you  approx- 
imate, but  (to  speak  academically,)  you  must  cut  them 
all.  I  am  under  no  apprehension  of  your  familiarizing 
yourself  with  low  company ;  but  a  silk  gown,  or  a  gold 
tuft, —  a  wish  to  form  a  high  connexion,  may  tempt  you 
to  tolerate  what  ought  to  be  intolerable  to  you.  At 
first  you  may  feel  disgust  at  profane  and  vicious  lan- 
guage and  manners.  Insensibly  they  will  excite  less 
horror.  After  a  time  you  will  think  it  enough  to  be 
personally  exempt  from  these  offences — then  you  may 
begin  to  excuse  and  palliate ;  till  at  length  you  break 
bounds,  and  assume  a  conduct,  and  avow  a  creed,  re- 
pugnant to  your  judgment,  and  which  your  heart 
secretly  condemns.-     You  will    have  no  difficulty   in 


ON     GOING    TO     COLLEGE.  119 

avoiding  sucli  associates ;  for,  unless  you  seek  an  intro- 
duction, they  will  not  notice  you.  The  third  party 
which  pretends  to  no  religion,  are  those  who  are  called 
the  reading  men  at  Cambridge,  and  the  quizzes  at 
Oxford.  Their  diligent  application  to  study,  and  desire 
of  distinction  in  the  university,  are  worthy  of  your 
imitation :  for  you  are  sent  to  College,  not  merely  to 
get  a  degree,  and  barely  escape  rejection  at  last,  but  to 
obtain  a  creditable  testimony  that  you  have  profited  by 
the  studies  of  the  place :  yet,  while  I  commend  the 
industry  of  the  characters  alluded  to,  and  their  gene- 
rally correct  conduct,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that 
their  motives  and  objects  are  not  such  as  I  could  enforce 
upon  you. 

''It  is  possible  that  my  advice  to  you  may  be  diffe- 
rent from  that  of  some  who  nevertheless  agree  with  me 

in  principle.      I  remember  it  was  said  to  you  by 

'Don't  look  at  every  man  not  strictly  religious  as  a 
wild  bear,  and  a  dangerous  companion.'  Certainly  it  is, 
not  a  duty  to  cherish  morose  feelings,  but  rather  to  cul- 
tivate a  sweetness  of  temper,  and  a  courteous  behaviour 
towards  all :  and  an  occasional  interchange  of  visits, 
with  those  who  will  converse  profitably  on  literary  pur- 
suits, cannot  be  objected  to.  Yet  I  wish  to  be  more 
explicit  as  to  the  proper  degree  of  intercourse  with  those 
who  do  not  fear  God,  however  creditable  and  desirable 
the  acquaintance  may  be  in  other  respects.  If  you  were 
of  long  standing  in  religion,  you  might  venture  on 
many  things  which  you  cannot  now  attempt  with 
safety.  They  might  even  become  a  duty.  The  firemen 
must  scale  the  burning  roof,  while  the  spectator  of  the 
flames  had  better  keep  at.  a  distance.  You  must  not 
try  how  much  poison  your  constitution  will  bear,  or 
risk  your  soul's  health  for  the  sake  of  any  temporal 
advantage.  The  world  —  by  which  I  mean  those  who 
are  ignorant  of  religion,  or  whose  hearts  are  not  in  it, — 


120  LETTEll    TO     A    YOUNG     MAN 

must  ever  he  to  the  true  Christian,  either  a  cross,  or  a 
snare:  and  when  it  ceases  to  he  the  one,  it  will  invariably 
become  the  other.  I  cannot  approve  of  whole  evenings 
passed  in  company  where  it  is  -understood  that  God  is 
never  to  be  referred  to,  and  where  the  least  observation 
connected  with  eternity,  creates  a  silence,  if  it  does  not 
provoke  a  sneer,  an  opposition  of  sentiment,  or  a  feeling 
of  distaste.  To  be  much  in  society  of  this  kind,  beyond 
the  demands  of  duty  or  necessity,  which  you  can  seldom 
plead,  is  surely  no  better  than  constructive  treason 
against  our  Lord  and  Saviour.  If  you  make  the  expe- 
riment, mark  the  effect  on  your  own  mind.  If  the 
tone  of  religious  feeling  be  impaired,  if  you  grow  dull 
and  heartless  in  devotion,  be  assured  that  something  is 
wrong  in  your  motives,  pursuits,  and  associations.  So 
long  as  you  agree  to  live  and  converse  as  if  the  world 
were  every  thing,  and  God  nothing,  you  may  be  toler- 
ated, though  your  professed  attachment  to  religion  be 
'known ;  or  you  may  even  be  respected  for  qualities  that 
are  amiable  and  estimable,  and  your  society  may  afford 
satisfaction  to  literary  young  men,  who  would  keep 
you  at  a  distance  if  you  acted  consistently  with  your 
profession  of  a  purer  faith,  and  stricter  conversation 
The  old  rule  'noscitur  a  sociis,'  is  a  very  wise  and  safe 
one.  Compare  the  conversation  of  your  new  associates, 
if  you  form  such,  with  the  discussions  you  have  heard 
under  the  paternal  roof;  where,  though  the  subjects 
were  not  always  strictly  religious,  yet  tj|e  spirit  in  which 
they  were  treated  had  a  tendency  not  only  to  improve 
the  mind,  but  in  some  way  or  other  to  sanctify  the 
heart.  Perhaps  I  feel  the  more  strongly  on  this  subject, 
partly  from  having  seen  many  a  hopeful  young  person 
entirely  ruined  by  a  friendship  formed  on  merely  literary 
grounds,  and  partly  because  I  perceive  a  gradual  break- 
ing down  of  old-fashioned  distinctions,  to  the  serious 
injury  of  true  religion. 


ON    GOING    TO     COLLEGK  121 

"Your  father  has,  I  find,  earnestly  entreated  you  to 
cast  in  your  lot  with  those  who,  by  way  of  reproach 
are  termed,  the  saints,  I  know  more  of  this  class  than 
he  does,  who  must  be  in  a  degree  unacquainted  with 
university  habits  and  students ;  and  I  would  recom- 
mend you  not  to  identify  yourself  with  a  sect  or  party 
of  any  kind,  without  careful  discrimination.  The 
religion  of  the  Bible  is  often  a  different  thing  from  that 
of  its  professed  advocates;  and  if  our  hearts  be  right 
with  God,  there  will  be  occasions  when  we  must  stand 
alone,  I  do  not  mean  to  reflect  on  the  religious  body ; 
for  whatever  holiness  or  truth  there  is  in  the  world,  will 
be  found  chiefly  among  them ;  but  false  brethren  have 
ever  crept  unawares  into  the  church  of  God,  and  have 
done  great  injury  to  sincere  and  honest  members  of  it ; 
and  there  is  always  reason  to  fear  that  when  credit  and 
interest  are  promoted  by  a  profession  of  religion,  some 
will  consent  to  wear  our  badge,  who  are  strangers  to  our 
principles.  In  this  class  you  will  also  find  the  sons  of 
truly  good  men,  introduced  and  noticed  on  the  score  of 
their  parents'  piety.  These  are  acquainted  with  the 
theory  of  religion,  but  their  hearts  are  far  from  being 
influenced  by  it ;  and  former  restraints  being  removed, 
they  are  apt  to  yield  to  corrupt  inclination ;  and  if  they 
even  keep  within  the  bounds  of  decency,  (which  is  not 
always  the  case)  they  gradually  adopt  the  manners  and 
habits  of  the  world.  Some  of  higher  pretensions  to 
piety,  affect  to  despise  both  the  studies  and  honours  of 
the  university,  and  become  mere  idlers  and  gossips. 
They  are  ready  for  disputation,  and  arrogant  in  main- 
taining some  peculiar  view  of  their  own,  to  the  neglect 
of  the  plain,  simple,  practical  truths  of  religion.  You 
need  not  incur  a  quarrel  in  shunning  their  society. 
Hold  up  the  torch  of  real,  spiritual,  heart  religion,  and 
these  birds  of  the  night  will  flee  away  and  leave  you. 
You  will  also  meet  with  a  few  religionists  of  a  squeam- 

11 


122  LET  TEE    TO    A    YOUNG.  MAK 

ish,  fastidious  spirit,  wlio  cannot  tolerate  the  defects 
of  less  polished,  but  truly  honest  and  sincere  young 
men.  Their  idol  is  talent ;  which  seems  to  men  of  this 
order  to  compensate  for  the  want  of  piety,  if  it  does  not 
excuse  much  that  is  wrong  in  principle  and  practice. 
They  seldom  discover  any  vigour,  or  meaning,  or  spirit- 
uality in  their  religious  profession ;  but  dwell  much  on 
gentlemanly  behaviour,  and  a  joroper  compliance  with  the 
world.  Leaving  all  these,  you  must  seek  your  com- 
panions amongst  those  who  have  evidently  thrown  heart 
and  soul  into  the  service  of  their  Master;  -and  who  pre- 
fer a  honest  man  with  his  blunders  and  disadvantages, 
to  those  who  sparkle  with  the  splendour  of  superior 
talent,  but  whose  morbid  sensibilities  chill  the  glow  of 
real  piety. 

"  8.  I  particularly  recommend  you  to  decline  break- 
fast-parties :  for  even  when  the  conversation  may  be 
interesting  and  generally  improving,  there  is  a  tempta- 
tion to  ^prolong  it  unreasonably,  and  thus  to  infringe 
upon  the  regular  hours  and  habits  of  study. 

"4.  "When  at  college,  I  had  a  great  dread  of  loun- 
gers. My  room  being  near  the  tutor's,  I  was  liable  to 
be  pestered  with  triflers  who  came  to  pass  away  half  an 
hour  in  just  doing  nothing.  To  bid  them  leave  me 
would  have  been  an  act  of  incivility;  to  have  looked 
sour  or  appeared  fidgetty,  Avould  have  seemed  not  less 
so ;  yet  repeated  interruptions  became  at  last  insupport- 
able, and  I  had  recourse  to  a  stratagem  which  I  thought 
innocent,  and  which  was  certainly  very  successful.  I 
entertained  the  man  of  taste  with  the  discord  of  my 
violoncello,  and  the  man  of  no  taste  with  a  passage  from 
a  classic.  After  yawning  a  response  or  two  he  soon  left 
me,  voted  me  a  bore,  and  sought  more  congenial  society. 
If  you  are  hard  pushed,  you  may  make  the  experiment, 
and  I  can  promise  a  similar  result.  Security  from  morn- 
ing interruptions    must  be   obtained    at   any   expense. 


ON    GOING    TO    COLLEGE.  123 

Idleness  is  very  contagiouS;  and  gossipping  of  all  kinds 
a  sad  waste  of  time. 

"  5,  Eemember,  (for  it  is  an  invaluable  maxim)  that 
method  is  the  soul  of  business,  and  that  steady  persever- 
ance is  necessary  to  your  successful  cultivation  of  know- 
ledge. Let  your  time  be  duly  portioned  out;  and  every 
thing  done  in  its  season.  Let  each  hour  have  its  allotted 
employment.  Kise  early.  Keep  good  hours — your 
health  and  success  both  depend  on  it.  Sitting  up  late  is 
a  very  bad  habit.  Guard  against  inequality  and  irregu- 
larity ;  if  you  read  hard  for  a  week,  and  then  idle  away 
whole  days  in  boating  and  riding,  you  will  make  less 
progress  than  persons  inferior  to  yourself  in  ability, 
but  who  are  steady  and  regular  in  their  application. 
Nothing  is  done  well  that  is  done  by  fits  and  starts. 

'6.  You  ought  not  to  think  of  degrading  into  the 
class  called  the  non-reading  men,  and  content  yourself 
with  a  Pol  degree,  under  an  idle  pretence  of  gaining 
more  general  knowledge :  aim  at  some  academical  dis- 
tinction. I  dare  not  hold  out  to  you  as  a  motive,  the 
love  of  reputation  or  the  gratification  of  pride:  but 
study  night  and  day  to  honour  God  and  religion.  It  is 
worth-while  to  labour  hard  to  have  something  valuable 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  to  lay  at  the  foot  of  the  cross. 
I  have  always  admired  Selden's  reply,  when  asked  how 
a  man  of  his  attainments  could  lower  himself  by  super- 
stition, (for  such  his  piety  was  miscalled)  — '  You  may 
despise  religion,  but  whatever  be  my  attainments  in 
human  learning,  I  do  count  them  all  but  dung  and 
dross  in  comparison  of  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge 
of  Jesus  Christ  my  Lord.'  Many  men  will  value  the 
truth,  in  proportion  to  their  respect  for  those  who  pro- 
fess it.  You  may  find  persons  who  cloak  their  indo- 
lence or  their  dulness  under  a  misapplication  of  some 
text  of  scripture ;  but  be  assured,  the  most  spiritual  and 
really  useful  men,  if  not  always  possessed  of  the  great- 


124  LETTEK    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN 

est  talent,  are  those  wlio  have  made  the  most  of  their 
opportunities.  No  one's  name  slumbers  in  the  Tripos  ; 
it  follows  him  through  life,  and  what  he  has  been  at 
college,  will  help  to  determine  his  influence  in  many  a 
country  village.  When  a  young  clergyman  excites 
attention  by  a  serious  application  to  his  duties,  it  is  a 
common  inquiry  amongst  persons  who  might  be  sup- 
posed not  to  trouble  themselves  about  such  matters, 
What  degree  did  he  take?  Was  he  distinguished  at 
college?  and  he  will  rise  or  sink  in  their  estimation 
accordingly.  There  may  be  prejudice  or  mistake  in 
this,  but  it  carries  no  small  weight  to  be  able  to  say. 
Are  they  philosophers,  mathematicians,  or  linguists  ?  so 
am  I.  Besides,  the  habit  of  application  to  subjects  not 
immediately  connected  with  religion,  is  a  good  discipline 
of  the  mind,  and  will  accustom  it  to  correct  and  deep 
thinking  on  religion  itself.  The  studies  of  the  univer- 
sity are  not,  as  some  suppose,  a  mere  literary  trial  of 
skill,  and  of  no  further  use  than  to  fill  up  a  space  in 
human  life,  or  fit  a  man  for  scientific  pursuits  alone. 
If  you  find  the  lectures  dry,  or  your  Latin  irksome,  think 
of  working  for  God's  glory,  and  Christ's  honour,  and  it 
will  infuse  a  vigour  and  a  sweetness  into  them.  I  have 
heard  some  good  young  men  complain  of  the  loss  of 
spirituality  and  taste  for  the  Bible,  and  ascribe  this 
mischief  to  the  absorbing^  influence  of  their  studies ;  but 
their  studies  are  not  to  blame, —  it  is  the  spirit,  design 
and  end,  with  which  they  are  undertaken.  A  man  may 
hold  communion  with  God  through  any  medium,  or  in 
any  occupation,  if  his  heart  and  aim  be  right :  he  may 
become  carnal  in  the  midst  of  theological  pursuits,  and 
may  preserve  the  utmost  spirituality  while  wading 
through  the  rubbish  of  the  schools.  Eemember  that  it 
is  not  your  work,  but  your  motive,  which  will  injure  or 
keep  alive  your  piety 

"You  will  be   required  to   go  to  the  college-chapel 


ON    GOING    TO     COLLEGE.  125 

morning  and  evening,  with  the  exception  of  seven  oi 
eight  times  a  week,  when  you  may  exercise  your  own 
discretion  as  to  attendance.  I  would  advise  you  to  be 
always  present.  The  example  even  of  the  religious  young 
men  may  fail  you ;  many  of  whom  regard  this  regular 
attendance  as  a  waste  of  time.  They  complain  of  the 
rapid  and  slovenly  way  in  which  the  service  is  per- 
formed, and  that  there  is  no  devotion  in  chants  and 
anthems.  But  you  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  offences 
of  others,  or  with  modes  of  worship.  It  is  God's  house, 
God's  service.  Honour  both,  and  you  shall  not  have  to 
bewail  the  unprofitableness  of  prayer  under  any  circum- 
stances or  defects.  I  enjoy  cathedral-service, —  it  is  to 
me  truly  ^votional.  Men  who  dislike  music  may  find 
it  less  in  unison  with  their  feelings;  but  before  it  is 
denounced  as  a  relic  of  popery,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  the  temple-service  was  still  more  musical,  and  our 
Lord  was  there.  He  would  not  have  sanctioned,  by  his 
presence,  a  mode  of  worship  which  contained  in  it  any 
thing  injurious  to  devotion,  or  inconsistent  with  a  right 
frame  of  spirit  in  a  true  worshipper.  Go  also  to  chapel 
in  proper  time :  I  know  the  colleges  allow  their  young 
men  to  come  in  when  a  third  of  the  service  is  over,  with- 
out a  mark  of  absence ;  a  practice  which  (with  all  due 
submission  to  masters  and  deans)  gives  me  a  painful  feel- 
ing, for  it  looks  as  if  chapel  attendance  was  considered  as 
a  mere  roll-call ;  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  juniors 
should  hurry  to  chapel  from  their  beds,  in  a  disgraceful 
dishabille  under  cover  of  the  gown  or  the  surplice. 
At  first  your  motives  may  be  suspected,  but  consistency 
in  this  and  all  other  things  will  ultimately  procure 
respect. 

^^  Never  think  any  time  mis-spent  which  is  employed  in 
the  service  and  presence  of  God.  Your  attendance  at 
St.  Mary's,  though   expected,  is  not  exacted.     I  have 

been  sorry  to  hear  some  young  men  of  high  pretensions 

11* 


126  LETTER    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN 

to  religion  speak  very  contemptuously  of  University 
sermons,  and  excuse  their  neglect  of  attending  tliem  on 
tlie  ground  of  unprofitableness.  Many  admirable  dis- 
courses for  head  and  heart  are  delivered  at  that  church; 
and  it  is  a  want  of  sense  to  compare  a  University  pulpit 
with  that  of  a  parish.  Sermons  are  much  improved  in 
doctrine  and  application  since  my  day,  yet  even  then,  I 
seldom  heard  a  discourse  from  which  I  could  not  gain 
something  useful,  either  in  the  elucidation  of  the  t-ext, 
or  by  inference  and  use  of  the  preacher's  material.  But 
whatever  be  the  defect  of  a  sermon,  recollect  who  has 
set  you  the  example  of  honouring  the  appointments  of 
lawful  authority  in  church  and  state,  and  ^'  fulfilling  all 
righteousness."  I  would  have  you  affiliate  j|purself  to 
the  habits,  usages,  studies,  and  worship  of  a  university- 
man,  and  to  cultivate  a  spirit  of  modesty,  regularity, 
order,  humility,  and  submission :  as  the  prime  duty  and 
greatest  ornament  of  a  young  man  in  statu  pu^illari, 
whose  province  it  is  to  learn,  and  not  to  teach. 

"  8.  You  wish  me  to  sketch  out  a  plan  of  study,  and 
an  orderly  arrangement  of  your  time.  Much  depends 
on  college-appointments;  but  leaving  you  to  improve 
or  alter  in  reference  to  them,  I  will  comply  with  your 
request ;  at  the  same  time  observing,  that  it  is  more  easy 
for  me  to  dictate,  than  for  you  to  execute.  You  have 
need  to  pray  for  firmness  and  resolution;  since  any 
relaxation  or  breach  on  your  part,  except  in  cases 
of  imperious  necessity,  will  leave  you  resolving  and 
resolving,  but  never  attaining  to  any  eminence.  I 
suppose  the  chapel-service  at  eight  in  the  morning  and 
six  in  the  evening,  hall  at  four,  lecture  at  ten,  with  some 
other  college  exercise  which  you  must  arrange  as  you 
can,  the  amount  of  time  will  be  the  same.  Be  always  at 
your  private  devotions  at  six  in  the  morning.  I  need 
not  repeat  what  I  have  already  said  on  this  subject, 
except  it  be  again  to  urge  you,  on  no  account  to  proceed 


ON"     G  O  I  ^^  G    TO     COLLEGE.  127 

to  business,  till  you  have  sought  help  from  God,  If  you 
be  not  inflexibly  steady  and  regular  on  this  point,  you 
will  lose  the  spirit  of  religion,  and  retain  only  the  dregs 
of  form ;  amidst  gods  and  goddesses,  cubes,  and  squares 
and  triangles,  and  all  the  multitudinous  ideas  which  are 
poured  into  your  mind.  DeTOte  the  next  hour  to 
theology ;  I  will  give  you  the  first  year  to  get  an 
acquaintance  with  the  Hebrew  Bible  and  Greek  Testa- 
ment, till  you  can  read  both  with  as  much  ease  as  the 
English  version.  You  will  need  no  other  helps  than 
Buxtorif' s  small  lexicon,  and  Schleusner's  two  volumes 
for  the  Testament.  You  are  tolerably  ready  with  the 
grammar  of  each  language,  or  I  should  have  added 
Simon's  grammar  for  the  Hebrew.  The  very  few  chap- 
ters in  Ghaldee  will  be  easily  mastered  with  Buxtorff's 
larger  grammar  and  lexicon.  Use  and  observation  will 
supply  a  more  critical  knowledge  of  these  languages 
without  any  other  assistance.  Employ  the  second  year 
with  Scott,  for  a  further  acquaintance  with  the  Scrip- 
tures. I  might  point  out  more  able  expositors  on 
detached  portions,  but  you  will  find  in  him  a  good 
compilation  from  more  extensive  works.  You  need  not 
perplex  yourself  with  too  many  expositors.  It  would 
be  a  very  heavy  imposition  to  wade  through  all  the  trash 
and  prosings  which  have  been  appended  to  divinity. 
Difficulties  may  sometimes  be  cleared  up  by  chronology, 
geography,  and  parallelisms;  but  in  most  eases  the 
Bible  is  its  own  and  best  interpreter.  For  the  same 
hour  in  the  third  year,  read  Hartwell  Home.  This  is 
an  invaluable  book  for  a  young  man,  and  you  must  not 
lay  him  aside  till  you  have  fully  digested  his  admirable 
compUations,  to  guide .  you  in  more  discursive  reading 
hereafter.  College  preparations  will  sufficiently  embrace 
the  subject  of  evidences.  Let  me  seriously  caution 
you  against  a  spirit  of  curious  metaphysical  inquiry 
into  those  parts  of  theology,  which  are  more  fit  f  >r  age 


128  LETTEE    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN 

and  experience,  if  indeed  they  are  ever  safe,  or  profit- 
able, or  intelligible.  The  arrogant  dogmatism  of  some 
religionists  is  intolerable,  their  presumption  full  of 
danger,  and  their  spirit  and  temper  most  uncliristian. 
On  many  points  it  is  best  to  say  with  Leighton,  "  Here 
I  choose  rather  to  stand  on  the  shore,  and  in  the  survey 
of  God's  judgments  exclaim,  'Oh  the  depths,'  than 
venture  out .  upon  the  fathomless  abyss,  from  which  I 
might  never  return."  The  present  is  a  childish  dispen- 
sation, in  which*  we  must  be  content  to  know  little,  and 
strive  to  do  much.  During  the  remaining  half  year  of 
your  academical  residence,  spend  an  hour  each  day  in 
pulpit  composition.  I  hope  you  do  not  intend  to  be  a 
copyist,  or  one  of  Dr.  Trusler's  disciples.  Enrich  your 
sermons  to  the  utmost  with  the  ideas  of  others,  wrought 
into  your  own  mind :  but  never  transcribe.  I  am  not 
instructing  you  how  to  preach,  but  how  to  prepare 
materials,  or  I  should  say  many  things  in  relation  to  the 
ministry.  Get  a  Bible  interleaved,  and  note  down  all 
you  hear  or  read  relating  to  the  more  important  texts. 
I  began  to  do  this  at  an  early  age,  and  my  preaching 
Bible  now  contains  a  mass  of  references  to  authors,  trea- 
tises, commentators,  and  single  sermons,  on  most  import- 
ant questions,  so  that  half  my  work  is  done  before  I 
begin  to  compose.  My  tools  are  at  hand,  and  I  have  no 
need  to  hunt  for  them.  You  will  find  some  useful  hints 
in  Claude's  Essays  on  the  Framework  of  a  Sermon,  and 
in  the  'Horse  Homileticae,'  the  production  of  the  best 
skeleton-maker  in  the  world.  Yet  remember  an  old 
piece  of  advice, — 'NuUius  addictus  in  verba  magistri.' 
Imitate  no  one,  but  be  yourself.  Your  own  clothes  will 
fit  you  best.  Imitators  are  apt  to  copy  defects  as  well 
as  beauties,  and  thus  make  themselves  ridiculous:  use 
your  own  manner  and  style,  that  you  may  be  sincere 
and  natural.  If  you  are  industrious  you  will  not  here- 
after have  to  learn  when  you  are  required  to  teach.     Out 


ON    GOING    TO    COLLEGE.  129 

of  the  remainder  of  the  day,  take  six  hours  for  your 
college  exercises;  and  try  to  be  steady,  neat,  accurate, 
and  eminent  in  everything.  You  will  now  have  spent 
eight  hours  in  close  application ;  never  exceed  them. 
You  may  turn  to  music,  which  is  a  great  refreshment  of 
the  spirits, — to  conversation  or  letter-writing,  or  what- 
ever requires  no  effort  of  mind.  Never  be  out  of  your 
room  after  ten  at  night,  and  spend  half  an  hour  in  devo- 
tional exerci^s  before  you  retire  to  bed.  I  shall  not 
.  repeat  what  I  have  said  on  the  subject  of  prayer,  but  let 
me  add  one  caution.  You  will  sometimes  have  to  lament 
great  failures ;  do  not  on  such  occasions  take  refuge  in 
loose  antinoraian  notions,  nor  yet  give  way  to  reckless 
ness  and  despondency ;  if  God  knows  you  are  honest, 
and  striving  in  all  things  to  glorify. him,  though  you  fall' 
seven  times  a  day  he  will  raise  you  up  again.  Never 
resolve  to  do  nothing  because  you  have  not  done  every- 
thing ;  nor  indeed  resolve  at  all,  but  cast  your  troubles 
on  Christ,  and  set  to  work  again  with  more  diligence, 
caution,  and  dependence. 

"  I  have  said  nothing  of  modern  literature ;  you  are 
already  pretty  well  acquainted  with  it,  and  if  you  can 
find  an  hour  for  lighter  reading,  which  does  not  fatigue 
you,  it  may  be  well  to  enlarge  your  present  stock :  but 
not  to  the  neglect  of  other  things ;  because  in  vacations 
you  may  profitably  spend  some  time  upon  the  historians 
and  English  poets.  I  would  have  you  attend,  in  turn, 
the  public  lectures  on  anatomy.  Chemistry,  &c. ; — you 
will  not  be  able  to  read  in  private  on  these  subjects,  but 
you  may  thus  acquire  a  general  knowledge  of  them, 
which  will  both  improve  and  amuse  you.  The  divinity 
lecture  I  advise  you  to  postpone,  till  you  have  finished 
the  course  of  reading  on  that  subject  which  I  have 
marked  out  for  you.  There  is  one  part  of  my  sketch 
on  which  I  have  not  been  sufficiently  explicit ;  I  mean 
the  exercise  which  is  indispensably  necessary  to  health. 


130  LETTEK    TO    A    YOUNG    MAN 

I  have  scarcely  ever  had  a  pupil  to  whom  in  this  respect 
I  did  not  seem  to  be  another  Cassandra;  whose  predic- 
tions no  one  one  would  believe.  I  hope  you  will  be  an 
exception.  To  read  yourself  blind,  deaf,  stupid,  and 
nervous,  is  really  a  great  folly,  and  a  kind  of  suicide. 
There  have  been  many  sad  examples  of  complete  failure 
amongst  students,  through  neglect  of  exercise,  rather 
than  from  over-mental  exertion.  Always  take  exercise 
in  the  best  part  of  the  day,  and  at  three  periods,^  two 
half-hours  by  yourself,  and  two  hours  with  some  agree- 
able 'companion,  with  whom  the  conversation  may  be 
interesting;  kindred  pursuits  will  furnish  you  with 
abundant  materials. 

^'9.  Avoid  all  wine-parties,  or  if  circumstances  seem 
to  make  an  occasional  visit  in  this  way  necessary, 
firmly  adhere  to  some  rule  as  to  quantity.  I  never  took 
more  than  two  glasses,  and  this  determination  saved  me 
much  trouble  and  temptation."^"  Acquaintances  formed 
at  these  parties  are  transitory,  and  companions  will  soon 
be  dispersed  to  be  heard  of  no  more.  A  few  endeared 
intimacies  are  likely  to  be  more  durable  and  valuable. 

"10.  The  university  which  brings  together  so  great 
a  variety  of  persons,  is  a  good  school  for  the  study  of 
character ;  avail  yourself  of  it ;  by  the  defects  of  others 
learn  to  correct  your  own,  and  by  their  virtues  improve 
yourself.  You  will  seldom  find  a  person  who  does  not 
excel  you  in  something ;  lead  him  to  talk  on  his  favourite 
subject,  that  you  may  profit  by  his  superiority. 

"11.  With  respect  to  your  vacations,  I  shall  only 
now  throw  out  one  hint ;  which  is,  that  these  must  be 
equally  busy  periods,  if  you  aspire  to  academical 
honours.  You  will,  indeed,  be  expected  to  relax  occa- 
sionally in  family  parties;  still  you  must  unceasingly 

*  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  a  very  great  revolution  has  taken  place 
in  the  public  mind  since  the  above  was  written,  touching  the  use  at  all  of 
intoxicating  liquors.— Am.  Ed. 


OK    GOING    TO    COLLEGE.  131 

pursue  your  object,  and  attend  to  little  else.  Get  up 
your  college- subjects  for  the  next  term:  you  cannot 
otherwise  keep  pace  with  the  lectures. 

"12.  "Whatever  you  read,  always  keep  in  mind  the 
great  truths  of  the  Bible;  fact  and  observation  will 
strengthen  and  confirm  them. 

"  13.  Never  converse  about  religion,  but  in  the  spirit 
of  religion:  be  earnest,  spiritual,  and  serious;  jokes 
and  tales,  and  absurd  associations,  produce  levity  of 
mind,  and  even  hypocrisy ;  be  cheerful,  but  not  light. 

"  14.  You  may  start  at  the  amount  of  what  I  have 
stated,  but  I  know  from  experience  that  I  have  pro- 
posed nothing  which  may  not  be  achieved   by  steady 

perseverance.     Throw  your  whole  soul,  my  dear , 

into  a  preparation  for  a  usefal,  honourable,  and  service- 
able life,  in  the  most  glorious  of  all  employments,  the 
office  and  work  of  the  ministry.  That  God  may  give 
you  grace,  and  health,  and  strength,  to  become  a 
workman  that  needeth  not  be  ashamed,  is  the  earnest 
prayer  of 

Your  affectionate  and  faithful  friend." 

I  must  apologise  to  the  reader  for  detaining  him  so 
long  from  the  more  immediate  subject  of  the  Family 
Portraiture.  My  excuse  must  be  the  hope  that  this 
letter  of  my  own  may  fall  into  the  hands  of  some  student 
of  the  university,  and  furnish  him  with  useful  hints  to 
regulate  his  conduct  and  studies.  I  am  satisfied  that 
my  sentiments  would  be  found  in  unison  with  my 
friend's,  had  he  lived  to  complete  his  own  valuable 
directions  to  his  son  Henry. 

In  surveying  the  variety  of  circumstances  and  details 
connected  with  Mr.  K.'s  plan  of  education,  it  seems  to 
me  that  two  points  may  be  added  with  advantage. 

It  has  often  been  lamented  that  children  and  young 
people  receive  so  little  benefit  from  public  instruction. 


132  SUBJECTS    OMITTED    IN 

Mr.  Hiclimond  did  indeed  teacli  his  children  to  pray  and 
read  the  scriptures ;  and  he  wrote  a  form  of  prayer  for 
the  use  of  each  of  them,  until  they  were  able  to  approach 
a  mercy-seat  with  the  expression  of  their  own  thoughts 
and  desires.  They  had  the  benefit  of  his  family  exercises 
and  conversations,  and  he  kept  his  eye  on  their  behaviour 
at  church :  but  this  is  not  all  that  is  need'ful ;  they 
should  be  frequently  examined  as  to  what  they  hear, 
and  be  required  to  give  an  account  of  every  sermon ; 
receiving  reproof  or  commendation  as  they  appear  to 
have  been  negligent  or  attentive. 

It  is  important  also  to  accustom  children  to  separate 
a  part  of  their  pocket-money  for  charitable  purposes, 
and  to  act  in  their  sympathy  with  the  necessitous,  on 
plan  and  system.  Mr.  E.  was  himself  hospitable  and 
benevolent;  he  contributed  largely  from  his  slender 
means,  to  the  wants  of  his  poor  parishioners,  and  he 
inculcated  on  his  family  the  duty  of  unremitting  atten- 
tion to  distress  of  every  kind.  But  children  should  be 
trained  to  seek  out  proper  objects,  and  learn  to  relieve 
them  from  their  own  means,  and  by  the  sacrifice  of  their 
own  gratifications.  What  portion  of  our  goods  ought 
to  be  separated  for  the  poor  is  not  determined  in  the 
scriptures ;  the  only  definite  rule  there  laid  down,  is, 
"According  as  God  hath  prospered  him,  so  let  every 
man  give  as  he  is  disposed  in  his  heart."  Children,  as 
well  as  grown  people,  should  be  allowed  opportunity  to 
exercise  discretion,  and  evidence  the  sincerity  of  prin- 
ciple: we  cannot  prescribe  any  fixed  amount,  which 
must  vary  according  to  the  circumstances  of  different 
persons ;  still,  however,  this  labour  of  love  ought  to  be 
regulated  by  some  definite  principle. 

From  the  foregoing  detail  of  Mr.  R.'s  laborious  and 
conscientious  care  of  his  family,  it  is  natural  to  ask 
what  was  the  result.  Delicacy  and  propriety  forbid  me 
to  speak  of  the  living,  though  I  might  there  appeal  to 


ME.  RICHMOND'S    PLAN  OP  EDUCATION.    133 

facts  whicli  confiim  tlie  truth  of  that  gracious  promise, 
'^  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  in  which  he  should  go, 
and  when  he  is  old  he  shall  not  depart  from  it." 

I  shall,  however,  now  endeavour  to  fulfil  Mr.  E.'s  own 
intentions,  by  recording  the  deaths  of  his  children,  who 
died  in  the  faith,  and  are  gone  to  their  rest  and  peace  in 
Christ  Jesus. 

12 


134  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 


CHAPTEE   V. 

The  storm  that  wrecks  the  wintry  sky 
No  more  disturbs  their  deep  repose, 
Than  summer's  evening's  latest  sigh 
That  shuts  the  rose. 

MONTGOMEET. 

Samuel  Nugent  Legh,  the  eldest  son  of  Mr.  Kicli- 
mond,  was  born  at  Brading,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  June 
18,  1798. 

From  his  birth  to  the  hour  of  his  death  he  was  the 
child  of  many  prayers  to  God,  for  life  and  salvation 
through  a  crucified  Kedeemer. 

"My  responsibilities,"  said  Mr.  E.  "are  greatly 
increased  by  the  birth  of  a  son,  and  I  have  need  of 
wisdom  to  preserve  this  loan  of  the  Lord,  and  to  train 
up  an  immortal  soul  for  heaven. 

The  views  of  a  Christian  parent  concerning  his 
offspring  are  not  bounded  by  time,  nor  his  hopes  and 
wishes  limited  to  a  present  provision.  Our  heavenly 
Father  knoweth  our  wants.  We  must  seek  first  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  all  other 
things  will  be  supplied  as  far  as  is  needful  to  our 
welfare. 

The  first  paper  found  amongst  Mr.  E.'s  memoranda 
relating  to  his  son  Nugent,  is  a  letter  addressed  to  the 
sponsors  on  the  occasion  of  his  infant's  reception  into 
the  company  of  believers  by  the  sacrament  of  baptism. 
The  selection  of  these  parties  is  often  a  delicate  and 
a  difficult  duty  to  religious  parents.  The  usages  of 
society  direct  our  view  towards  kinsfolk  and  intimate 
friends,  and  the  practice  is  natural  and  proper  when 


SPONSORSHIP.  135 

sucli  can  be  found  possessing  a  deep  sense  of  tlie  respon- 
sibilities of  their  engagement.  But  to  be  swayed  prin- 
cipally by  relationship  or  interest  in  this  appointment, 
is  inconsistent  with  Christian  integrity,  and  is,  in  fact, 
''honouring  man  more  than  God."  The  church  supposes 
sponsors  to  be  persons  of  real  piety,  a  company  of  the 
faithful,  who  agree  ''as  touching  what  they  shall  ask 
of  God  in  Christ's  name  "  on  behalf  of  the  infant.  They 
are  provided  as  spiritual  trustees,  to  take  care  that  the 
child  be  virtuous  brought  up,  and  they  engage  for  the 
fulfilment  of  conditions,  without  which,  baptism,  like 
the  Lord's  supper  is  not  available  for  any  benefit.  The 
grace  of  baptism  is  not  promised  to  unbelievers,  and 
there  are  many  who  are  such  as  to  this  act,  though  the 
term  may  not,  in  general,  be  applicable  to  them.  The 
right  is  regarded  by  some  merely  as  a  compliance  with 
the  forms  of  religion,  and  by  others  as  conferring  a  title 
to  covenant-privileges,  rather  than  as  communicating 
any  actual  benefit.  But  the  Church  of  England,  and,  I 
may  add,'  all  the  reformed  churches,  define  this  sacra- 
ment to  be  an  "  outward  and  visible  sign  of  an  inward 
and  spiritual  grace;  ordained  by  Christ  himself,  as  a 
means  whereby  we  receive  the  same,  and  a  pledge  to 
assure  us  thereof." 

To  maintain  that  the  right  administration,  indepen- 
dent of  the  right  reception  of  an  ordinance,  is  effectual, 
would  be  to  sanction  the  errors  of  Popery ;  and  it  would 
be  extravagant  to  assert  that  all  baptized  persons  are 
regenerate,  since  the  fact  is  palpably  against  such  an 
assumption.  "Whether  we  say  with  Arminius,  that  the 
grace  of  'baptism  has  been  lost,  or  with  Calvin,  that 
it  has  been  nullified,  by  the  non-fulfilment  of  engage- 
ments:— whether  by  the  terms  regeneration,  renovation, 
or  conversion  be  meant :  the  return,  the  confirmation, 
or  the  original  impartation  of  a  divine  influence,  (the 
phrase  matters  not,)  it  is  most  evident  that  those  who 


136  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

do  not  "bring  forth  the  fruits  of  tlie  Spirit  are  not 
"partakers  of  an  inward  and  spiritual  grace;"  and  it 
becomes  the  ministers  of  religion  to  exhort  such  per- 
sons to  pray,  and  to  seek  for  that  change  of  nature, 
without  which  no  man  can  enter  into  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  This  view  of  the  subject  secures  every  prac- 
tical and  useful  purpose,  and  it  would  be  more  advan- 
tageous to  men's  souls  to  contend  earnestly  for  the 
faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints,  than  to  strive  about 
words  to  no  profit. 

Christian  parents  and  sponsors  would  do  well  to 
consider  whether  their  own  ignorance  and  unbelief  as 
it  respects  this  solemn  ordinance,  may  not  have  pro- 
voked God  to  withhold  the  blessing  promised  "to  us 
and  to  our  children."  We  know  that  under  the  law 
the  child  was  cut  off  who  "  had  broken  the  covenant," 
only  by  the  contempt  or  neglect  of  circumcision  on  the 
part  of  his  sinful  parents ;  and  why  may  not  the  hypo- 
crisy of  sponsors  in  the  performance  of  a  Christian  rite, 
be  the  cause  of  its  almost  general  inefiicacy  ? 

It  is  an  argument  of  no  little  weight  in  favour  in 
sponsorship,  that  this  appendage  lo  Christian  baptism 
has  been  sanctioned  by  high  antiquity.  It  is  not  a 
novelty  of  modern  times.  It  universally  obtained  in  the 
Jewish  church,  and  was  continued  in  the  church  of 
Christ  to  the  sixteenth  century:  its  rejection,  together 
with  that  of  the  baptism  of  infants,  originated  with  the 
enthusiasts  of  Munster.  I  repeat  the  remark,  sponsor 
ship  was  asssociated  with- baptism  in  the  Jewish  church, 
and  unless  in  the  application  of  a  rite  long  practised  to 
a  new  dispensation,  the  concomitants  of  that  rite,  "the 
answer  of  a  good  conscience,"  by  and  for  others,  were 
repealed, — (and  we  have  no  proof  nor  reason  to  suppose 
they  were  repealed,)  the  disciples,  as  Jews,  could  not 
interpret  their  commission,  but  in  connexion  with  their 


LETTEE     TO     SPONSORS.  137 

early  associations  and  the  constant  practice  of  their 
nation . 

If  this  argument  does  not  so  firmly  establish  the  use 
of  sponsorship  as  to  invalidate  baptism  without  it, 
(which  neither  we  nor  the  foreign  churches  maintain,) 
it  is  surely  sufficient  to  rescue  the  custom  from  the 
ignorant  contempt  with  which  it  is  too  often  treated. 

It  will  be  seen  by  the  following  letter,  that  Mr.  K's. 
sentiments  were  in  unison  with  what  has  just  been 
stated,  on  this  interesting  appendage  to  Christian 
baptism. 

"To  the  worthy  Godfather  and  Godmother  of  Samuel 
Kugent  Legh  Eichmond. 

"Suffer  the  anxious  feelings  of  a  father  to  plead  an 
apology  for  addressing,  petitioning,  and  admonishing 
you  on  a  subject  so  near,  so  dear  to  his  heart,  as  the 
future  welfare  of  an  infant  child.  I  need  not  remind 
you,  that  the  institution  of  sponsors  at  the  baptism  of 
every  young  child,  is  a  pious  precaution  of  the  church, 
intended  to  provide  for,  and  ensure  the  religious  educa- 
tion of  its  members.  With  regard  to  the  natural 
parents  of  the  child,  they  are  considered  as  already 
engaged  under  such  strict  bonds,  both  by  nature  and 
religion,  to  take  care  of  his  spiritual  welfare,  that  the 
church  does  not  suppose  that  she  can  lay  them  under 
any  greater;  but  she  still  makes  a  provision,  that  if, 
notwithstanding  these  obligations,  the  parents  should 
be  negligent,  or  if  it  should  please  God  to  take  them  to 
himself  during  the  infancy  of  their  children,  there  may 
yet  be  others  who  stand  solemnly  pledged  before  God 
and  his  church,  to  see  that  such  infants  are  not  without 
instruction,  in  consequence  of  such  carelessness  or 
untimely  death  of  their  parents.  Hence  it  follows,  that 
a  charge  of  the  most  serious  and  important  nature  is 

12* 


138  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    KICHMOND, 

undertaken  by  the  spiritual  parents  or  sponsors,  who 
are  therefore  called,  fathers  and  mothers  in  God ;  and 
fa  all  matters  which  concern  the  godly  instruction, 
Christian  principles,  and  progress  in  piety  of  their  god- 
children, they  do  most  assuredly  and  unequivocally 
become  answerable  for  their  faith  and  practice,  so  far  as 
human  vigilance  and  endeavours  are  concerned.  True 
it  is,  if  they  have  the  satisfaction  of  observing  that  the 
natural  parents  zealously,  piously,  and  unremittingly 
superintend  the  Christian  education  of  their  infant 
charge,  much  of  their  own  attentions  are  rendered 
unnecessary ;  —  still,  however,  their  own  responsibility 
remains  unaltered  by  any  circumstance,  from  the  hour 
of  baptism  to  the  years  of  discretion  and  understand- 
ing; and  it  is  incumbent  on  them  to  see  and  know  that 
all  things  are  provided,  and  nothing  omitted,  which 
is  conductive  to  the  soul's  health  of  their  children  in 
God. 

'Having  thus  stated  my  ideas  of  the  indispensable 
duties  of  god-fathers  and  god-mothers  in  general,  I  am 
naturally  led  to  make  the  immediate  application  to  the 
present  case.  I  hope  and  trust  that  myself  and  my  dear 
Mary  are  too  deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of  our  duty, 
(exclusive  of"  parental  affection)  to  omit  anything  which 
may  tend  to  the  Christian  instruction  of  our  young 
ones.  If,  therefore,  it  should  please  the  Almighty  to  grant 
us  life  and  health,  I  shall  look  forward  with  increasing 
pleasure  to  the  prospect  of  our  child's  being  so  educated, 
that  even  those  who  stand  solemnly  pledged  on  the  sub- 
ject, shall  have  little  else  to  do  than  to  observe,  examine, 
and  approve.  At  least  I  pray,  that  under  God's  bless- 
ing on  our  endeavours,  it  may  be  so ;  but,  should  our 
infant  be  deprived  of  parental  solicitude,  and  attention, 
through  death  or  debility  of  mind  or  body,  on  you,  my 
dear  and  much-respected  friends,  it  will  rest  to  provide 
all  that  in  your  name  has  been  vowed,  promised,  and 


LETTER    TO    SPONSORS.  139 

professed  for  him.  In  such  an  event,  I  entreat  that  no 
pains  may  be  spared  to  train  np  my  little  infant  in  the 
love  and  fear  of  God,  in  the  faith  of  the  Eedeemer,  and 
grateful  love  to  him,  and  with  a  firm  reliance  on  the 
assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Let  the  Scriptures,  and 
not  the  common-place  morality  of  the  times,  be  made 
the  ground-work  of  his  conduct,  his  principles,  arnd  his 
future  hopes;  teach  him  that  true  charity  is  the  off- 
spring of  Christian  faith,  and  that  heavenly  hope  can 
alone  spring  from  their  united  dominion  over  his  heart. 
With  such  a  foundation  he  will  learn  to  be  thankful 
and  contented  in  every  condition  of  life,  and  under  every 
dispensation  of  Providence.  Let  him  be  so  fortified 
with  the  true  armour  of  the  Christian,  that  the  shaft 
of  that  horrid  and  specious  monster,  infidelity,  may 
ever  be  repelled  with  humble  confidence  and  just  indig- 
nation. 

"  Teach  him  to  know,  that  although  the  gospel  gives 
no  encouragement,  no,  not  even  the  least  hope,  to  mo- 
rality without  faith,  yet  that  faith  without  works  is 
dead : 

''That,  notwithstanding  our  most  careful  obedience 
to  the  commandments  of  the  law,  we  are  still  unprofit- 
able servants ;  (the  merits  of  the  Saviour,  not  our  own 
merits,  rendering  us  acceptable  to  God,)  yet  that  the 
fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  to  be  seen  in  practical  activity 
in  promoting  the  good  of  others,  as  well  as  in  the  puri 
fication  of  ourselves.  Let  this,  and  every  other  Chris- 
tian principle,  be  engrafted  on  his  heart,  gradually  and 
in  due  progress,  with  the  advancement  of  his  under- 
standing ;  so  shall  your  weighty  duties  be  fulfilled,  and 
my  heart  be  at  ease. 

"  Should  the  boy's  life  and  my  own  be  spared,  it  will 
be  my  delight  to  endeavour  to  make  him  what  I  con- 
sider the  first  of  characters  —  a  real  Christian. 

^'With  respect  to  all  other  parts  of  education,  it  is 


140  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

foreign  to  the  purpose  of  this  address :  which  is  solely 
directed  to  the  subject  of  the  baptismal  vow,  accom- 
panied by  a  fond  father's  comments,  explanations,  and 
wishes.  My  present  fears  are  not  lest  he  should  be 
poor  and  unlearned  in  what  the  world  calls  wisdom  and 
accomplishment;  all  must  prosper  in  the  end,  if  he  be 
but  rich  in  good  works,  and  wise  unto  salvation.  I 
conclude,  therefore,  with  a  blessing  upon  you  all;  and 
if  this  epistle  be  of  a  more  serious  (and  to  you  I  Avill 
not  add  tedious)  description  than  you  are  accustomed  to 
receive,  the  best  apology  to  be  made  for  it  is  that  it 
comes  from  a  parish  priest,  an  affectionate  father,  and 
Your  faithful  brother-in-law  and  nephew, 

L.  E." 

It  was  Mr.  E.'s  earnest  desire,  that  his  first-born 
child  should  be  a  minister  of  the  Lord,  and  a  servant 
of  the  sanctuary ;  and  his  son's  course  of  education 
was  conducted  with  this  view,  both  while  he  con- 
tinued at  Brading,  and  on  his  subsequent  removal  to 
Turvey. 

There  was  nothing  censurable  in  Mr.  E.'s  wishes  for 
his  son's  introduction  into  the  ministry ;  but  considering 
the  peculiar  character  and  requirements  of  a  minister 
of  the  gospel,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  it  would  not 
be  more  consistent  that  the  designation  of  a  young  per- 
son to  that  sacred  profession  should  follow,  rather  than 
precede,  a  discovery  of  fitness  for  it.  I  am  not  hero 
speaking  of  the  awful  profanation  of  making  a  boy  a 
clergyman  because  he  shows  an  incapacity  for  other 
situations,  or  with  a  view  to  some  worldly  advancement, 
or  for  the  sake  of  literary  respectability  and  enjoyment ; 
such  motives  and  practices  cannot  be  too  strongly  de- 
precated :  is  it  not  to  bring  the  lame  and  the  blind  into 
the  temple,  and  to  offer  money  for  the  gift  of  God  ?  In 
such,  God  can  have  no  pleasure,  neither  will  he  accept 


EEMARKS    ON    THE    MINISTRY.  141 

an  offering  at  their  hand.  (Mai.  i.  2,  12.)  But  I  am. 
adverting  to  an  error,  not  uncommon  even  among 
religious  parents,  of  selecting  the  future  occupation  of 
the  ministry  for  their  children,  on  the  general  grounds 
of  correct  conduct  and  amiable  dispositions.  God  has 
taken  into  his  own  hands  the  work  of  the  sanctuary ; 
when  He  calls  and  separates  by  his  Spirit,  we  may  co- 
operate with  his  purposes,  and  supply  materials  and 
tools  for  his  workmen;  but  it  is  seldom  desirable  to 
anticipate  the  divine  will  on  this  head,  or  to  forget  that 
there  must  be,  not  only  a  real  conversion  of  heart  to 
God,  but  a  peculiar  aptness  for  the  work,  to  justify  an 
entrance  into  the  sacred  calling. 

Such  was  Mr.  E's.  judgment  in  after-life:  and  his 
tender  mind  sometimes  reverted  to  his  disappointment 
in  poor  Nugent's  delinquencies,  as  a  rebuke  for  his 
presumption. 

It  appears  that  Mr.  E.  early  adopted  the  practice  of 
corresponding  with  his  family:  and  I  present  to  the 
reader  a  letter  to  Nugent,  as  a  pleasing  specimen  of  his 
happy  manner  of  addressing  his  children. 

'  My  dear  little  boy, 

''  You  cannot  think  how  glad  I  was  to  see  your  letter ; 
so  glad  that  it  made  me  weep :  if  you  knew  how  dearly 
I  love  you,  I  am  sure  you  would  dearly  love  me ;  and 
if  you  knew  how  dearly  God  loves  you,  you  would  love 
him  also.  Never  forget  God,  for  he  is  always  thinking 
about  you :  do  you  not  see  how  good  he  is  to  you,  in 
giving  you  a  papa  and  mamma,  and  sisters,  and  friends, 
and  a  house  to  live  in,  and  food,  and  so  many  other  good 
things. 

"I  preached  a  sermon  last  Sunday  to  some  hundreds 
of  little  children,  and  you  can  hardly  think  how  well 
they  behaved,  and  how  silently  and  closely  they  attended 
to  what  they  heard.     Many  of  them  when  they  returned 


142  LIFE     OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

home,  wrote  down  wliat  they  heard  from  me  at  chnrcli : 
when  will  you  do  so,  my  dear  Nugent  ?     I  hope  you  get 

your  lesson  welL  for  Mr.  D ;  how  kind  he  is  to  teach 

you !  I  hope  you  pray  for  me  every  day ;  I  often  pray 
for  yoU;  and  God  will  hear  both  you  and  me,  if  we  pray 
with  our  whole  hearts.  "When  you  have  read  this  letter, 
you  must  go  and  kiss  M.  and  F.  and  H.,  and  tell  them 
I  bid  you  do  so  for  me,  because  I  am  far  away,  and 
cannot  give  them  myself  a  proof  of  my  affection  for 
them. 

My  Nugent,  you  are  the  eldest ;  if  you  are  a  good 
child,  they  may  follow  your  example ;  and  if  you  are 
a  bad  boy,  it  will  teach  them  to  be  sinful;  and  that 
will  make  God  very  angry  and  me  very  unhappy.  You 
are  now  every  day  growing  older,  and  you  ought  to  grow 
wiser  and  better,  and  then  you  will  be  a  comfort  to  us 
all,  and  I  shall  rejoice  and  praise.  I  wish  you  to-morrow 
morning  to  read  the  tenth  chapter  of  St.  Mark,  and  you 
will  see  how  Jesus  Christ  loved  little  children,  and  how 
he  took  them  up  in  his  arms,  and  blessed  them.  I  hope 
he  will  bless  you,  and  then  you  will  go  to  heaven  when 
you  die ;  but  without  a  blessing  from  Christ,  you  never 
can  go  there.  I  trust  I  shall  see  you  again  soon.  You 
must  pray  to  God  to  bring  me  back  in  health  and  safety. 
I  have  written  to  you  as  long  a  letter  as  perhaps  you 
will  like  to  read ;  one  thing  only  I  will  add,  that 
I  am  your  truly  loving  Papa, 

L.  K." 

For  some  years  Nugent  was  educated  at  home ;  being 
seldom  absent  from  his  father's  eye.  Companions  he 
had  none,  for  Mr.  E.  was  afraid  of  bringing  his  son  in 
contact  with  any  associations  out  of  his  own  family.  It 
may  be  doubted  how  far  it  was  wise  to  confine  a  boy  to 
his  own  resources  for  amusement;  for  at  this  time 
Mr.  K.  had  not  provided  the  philosophical  apparatus,  by 


nugent's   removal  to   school.      143 

whicli  he  afterwards  supplied  his  children  with  full 
employment  in  their  leisure  hours :  certainly  the  subse- 
quent transition,  from  these  restraints  to  the  almost 
unbounded  freedom  of  association  at  school,  proved 
injurious  to  Nugent. 

As  Mr.  K.'s  public  engagements  increased,  he  found 
it  necessary  to  place  his  son  under  other  superintend- 

ance;  rind   he   committed  him  to  the  care  of ;  in 

this  situation  Nugent  attached  himself  to  a  companion 
of  bad  principles  and  incorrect  conduct,  who  in  the  end 
succeeded  in  perverting  the  victim  of  his  confidence.  It 
became  necessary  to  remove  the  bad  example  from  the 
family,  and  at  last,  though  with  great  reluctance,  and 
bitter  disappointment,  Mr.  R.  consented  to  the  advice 
of  his  friends,  and  placed  his  son  in  a  merchant- vessel, 
All  hopes  of  the  ministry  were  abandoned ;  and  Nugent, 
now  a  wanderer  in  the  wide  world,  had  to  make  his 
own  way  in  life.  Many  affecting  circumstances  relating 
to  this  exile  from  his  father's  house,  have  been  already 
detailed  in  Mr.  E.'s  own  memoirs,  and  I  am  obliged  to 
forego  their  introduction  in  the  present  narrative. 

The  repetition  of  such  details  is  not,  however,  essen- 
tial to  my  purpose;  which  is  not  so  much  to  gratify 
curiosity,  as  to  show  the  great  advantage  of  a  religious 
education,  amidst  the  most  discouraging  and  distressing 
disappointments ;  and  that  the  promises  of  eventual 
success,  under  all  the  oppositions  of  a  fallen  nature,  and 
the  worst  temptations  to  evil,  will  ultimately  reward  the 
faithful  and  conscientious  discharge  of  our  duty  towards 
our  children. 

Mr.  R.  gave  his  son,  on  his  departure  from  this  coun- 
try, a  Bible,  and  a  paper  of  admonitions  and  instruc- 
tions for  his  conduct.  Amidst  all  his  irregularities, 
Nugent  discovered  a  grateful  and  affectionate  temper. 
His  errors  were  evidently  those  of  a  thoughtless  and 
yielding  disposition,   rather  thiin  of  a  deep-rooted  and 


144  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

vicious  propensity;  he  sincerely  loved  liis  father,  and 
he  preserved,  with  a  kind  of  religious  veneration,  these 
testimonies  of  his  regard;  never  losing  them,  though 
twice  shipwrecked,  and  though  all  the  other  little  pro- 
perty that  he  had  realized  was  then  swept  away. 

He  was  evidently  deeply  impressed  by  his  parents' 
bright  example,  and  he  kept  up  a  regular  correspondence 
with  them.  Mr.  E.'s  letters  are  lost ;  but  some  extracts 
from  those  of  his  son  will  serve  strongly  to  illustrate 
the  good  effects  of  past  instructions.  It  never  should 
be  forgotten  that  there  is  a  moral  influence  in  Christian 
principles,  which  keeps  evil  within  certain  bounds,  even 
when  those  principles  have  not  penetrated  the  heart; 
and  bad  as  unconverted  persons  often  appear,  amidst  all 
the  pains  taken  with  them,  they  would  probably  be 
much  worse  without  the  unseen  restraint  which  thus 
operates  within  them. 

A  lodgment  of  truth  once  made  in  the  mind,  cannot 
afterwards  be  wholly  eradicated.  Conviction  often  re- 
turns, and  at  last,  as  in  the  present  instance,  produces  a 
saving  change  of  heart  and  life.  Nugent  was  not  long 
on  the  mighty  deep  before  he  acknowledged  the  pro- 
priety of  his  removal  from  home,  and  began  deeply  to 
repent  of  the  follies  which  rendered  it  necessary, 

"My  dear  Father  and  Mother, 

"  I  am  now,  as  it  may  be  said,  at  the  other  end  of  the 
world,  but  still  I  often  think  of  you  and  Turvey.  I 
often  reflect  on  my  past  conduct,  and  bitterly  bewail 
my  folly ;  if  I  had  not  done  what  I  ought  not  to  have 
done,  T  might  now  be  resting  comfortably  under  your 
roof,  instead  of  having  to  bear  very  great  hardships  by 
night  and  by  day ;  but  I  will  not  complain  of  my  chas- 
tisement, and  have  indeed  far  greater  comforts  than  I 
deserve. 

«  Papa,  I  am  far  away,  but  I  often  think  of  you  and 


LETTEKS    TO    HIS    PAEENTS.  145 

of  m}^  dear  mother,  to  whom  I  have  occasioned  bitter 
sorrows.  Alas!  I  fear  my  offences  can  never  be 
forgiven. 

"  I  am  satisfied  you  acted  wisely  in  sending  me  from 
home,  sweet  home !  The  maxims  and  rules  you  gave 
me,  I  cherish  and  keep  by  me. 

''  Oh  !  how  I  look  back  on  the  hopes  and  fears,  alarms 
and  anxieties  of  my  dear  parents.  If  God  permits  me 
ever  to  see  them  again,  I  hope  it  will  be  under  different 
circumstances  and  feelings.  May  He  preserve  me  amidst 
the  winds  and  waves. 

I  am  still  your  affectionate  son, 

N.  E." 

There  was  something  so  ingenuous  and  relenting  in 
this  his  first  letter,  tjiat  Mr.  E.  anticipated  the  return 
of  his  son  from  the  voyage  with  all  that  strength  of 
affection  which  issued  from  his  loving  tender  heart  on 
all  occasions.  He  longed  to  embrace  the  poor  wanderer, 
and  mingle  his  tears  with  those  of  his  child,  saying, 
"  This  my  son  was  dead  and  is  alive  again,  was  lost  and 
is  found : "  but  these  fond  hopes  were  disappointed. 
Nugent  left  the  vessel  in  which  he  sailed,  in  opposition 
to  the  remonstrances  of  the  captain ;  to  whom  he  had 
been  entrusted,  with  directions  to  bring  him  back  to 
England,  Mr.  E.  had  only  intended  to  try  the  effect 
of  absence  and  employment,  in  reclaiming  his  son,  and 
not  to  fix  him  for  ever  in  the  perilous  occupation  of  a  sea- 
faring life.  The  Arniston  proceeded  on  her  voyage  with- 
out him,  and  he  had  soon  reason  to  regret  his  own 
indiscretion  (for  such  it  was,  though  God  meant  it  for 
good),  when  he  found  himself  cast  on  the  world  without 
means  of  livelihood,  without  friends,  or  even  an  ac- 
quaintance who  could  advise  and  serve  him ;  a  youth 
of  only  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  separated  from  all 

13 


14:6  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

who  felt  any  interest  in  his  welfare.  In  this  desolate 
and  almost  hopeless  state;  he  addressed  the  following 
letter  to  the  senior  chaplain  of  Cejlon. 

"Eeverend  Sir, 

'^  There  are  many  occasions  in  life  when  it  is  easier 
to  write  than  to  speak,  particularly  when  we  are  obliged 
to  speak  of  ourselves.  Your  know  condescension  and 
kindness  encourages  me  to  hope  you  will  pardon  my 
present  intrusion. 

"It  is  proper  I  should  acknowledge  that  my  own 
thoughtlessness  and  inconsiderate  conduct,  and  neglect 
of  the  instructions  of  an  excellent  father,  have  been  the 
cause  of  my  present  misfortunes.  I  ran  away  from 
school,  and  spent  my  time  in  dissipation  with  the  young 
farmers  of  my  neighbourhood;  ^^hich  gave  my  poor 
father  great  uneasiness  and  many  a  miserable  hour ; 
and  finding  me  unwilling  to  settle  to  any  useful  em- 
ployment, he  sent  me  to  sea,  as  a  last  resource,  in  hopes 
that  time  and  reflection,  and  experience  of  the  world, 
might  change  my  habits,  and  lead  me  to  a  proper  sense 
of  my  errors.  With  the  reluctant  consent  of  both  pa- 
rents, I  came  out  in  the  Arniston,  under  the  charge  of 
Captain  Simpson,  whose  uniform  kindness  to  me  I 
gratefully  remember.  He  refused  to  give  me  permission 
to  stay  in  India,,  and  I  withdrew  from  his  ship,  with  a 
view  to  profit  by  the  opportunity,  and  to  see  Calcutta, 
and  other  parts  and  places,  before  I  returned  to  Eng- 
land. In  this  expectation  I  have  been  disappointed, 
and  knowing  the  dislike  of  my  parents  to  my  present 
occupation,  I  have  abandoned  further  thoughts  of  con- 
tinuing in  it ;  at  least  till  I  can  learn  their  pleasure  as 
to  my  future  destiny.  I  humbly  throw  myself  on  your 
kindness,  and  entreat  you  to  take  me  under  your 
protection  and  guidance :  for  which  I  hope  to  testify 
the  gratitude  of  my  heart,    by   conducting  myself  with 


OCCURRENCES     EN    INDIA.  147 

diligence  and  propriety.     I  have  the  honour  to  remain 
with  the  greatest  respect, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

KE." 

Self-will  is  a  principal  source  of  mischief  to  young 
people ;  submission  and  deference  to  age  and  experience, 
a  chief  virtue  to  be  cultivated  by  them.  To  follow  his 
own  inclination  and  leave  the  Arniston,  was  a  culpable 
thoughtlessness;  nor  can  it  be  justified  or  excused, 
■  though  the  consequences  were  advantageous.  There  is, 
however,  much  to  approve  in  Nugent's  frank  and  open 
avowal  of  his  errors ;  he  might  have  concealed  them ; 
a  more  subtle  mind  would  have  been  tempted  to  do  so ; 
but  simplicity  is  always  the  best  policy;  it  disarms 
hostility,  and  disposes  men  to  overlook  the  past,  by  the 
security  which  seems  to  be  given  of  future  good  conduct 
it  relieves  the  parties  from  a  train  of  evils  and  embarrass- 
ments, and  temptations  to  new  offences,  which  will  meet 
them  at  every  step.  To  an  honourable  mind  it  is  ever 
painful  to  appear  in  false  colours ;  the  fear  of  disclosure, 
and  of  the  consequent  loss,  perhaps  of  our  friends,  will 
always  fill  us  with  restlessness  and  apprehension.  An 
offender  had  better  trust  God  with  his  case,  than  turn  for 
deliverance  to  the  wretched  expedients  which  his  own 
pride  and  folly  might  suggest.  This  appeal  to  a  stranger, 
"I  have  been  an  offending  wanderer;  therefore  take  me 
under  your  protection,"  may  seem  to  some  to  be  little 
consistent  with  prudence:  but  Nugent  could  not  have 
acted  more  wisely,  if  his  letter  had  been  Avritten  under 
the  influence  of  selfish  calculation,  instead  of  having  been, 
as  it  appears  to  me,  the  result  of  integrity. 

It  is  also  evident,  from  the  last  two  letters,  that  Mr. 
Richmond's  care  and  instructions  were  not,  even  now, 
without  their  use;  there  was  clearly  an  influence  in 
operation,  and  a  turning  to  right  principles  and  feelings 


148  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

on  the  part  of  Nugent ;  wliicli,  if  too  weak  to  stem  the 
torrent  of  natural  corruption,  was  doing  mucTi  to  con- 
trol evil,  and  prepare  his  mind  for  its  subjugation. 
Indeed,  the  full  effect  of  religious  education  is  seldom 
seen,  until  a  young  person  has  had  an  opportunity  of 
making  an  experiment  on  the  principles  which  he  has 
been  taught :  however  pleasing  the  piety  of  children,  it 
can  never  be  relied  on :  it  must  first  stand  the  test  of 
solitary  exposure  to  adverse  circumstances.  The  family 
is  a  kind  of  nursery  of  tender  plants,  of  whose  growth 
and  fruit  we  can  determine  nothing  till  they  are  trans- 
planted into  other  soils ;  but  in  all  cases  a  conscientious 
and  diligent  cultivation  of  a  child's  mind,  accompanied 
by  a  consistent  example, — without  which,  instruction 
too  often  injures  rather  than  improves, — will  be  like 
the  seed  sown,  which  may  not  appear  for  a  season,  but 
will  in  the  end  spring  up  and  reward  our  labour. 

I  have  already  remarked,  that  Mr.  K.  constantly 
corresponded  with  his  son ;  he  did  more, — ^Nugent  was 
in  his  daily  thoughts,  and  he  earnestly  and  continually 
carried  him  to  a  throne  of  grace;  and  I  cannot  but 
ascribe  to  the  faith  and  prayer  of  the  affectionate 
parent,  the  remarkable  escape  of  the  child.  The 
Arniston  having  sailed  without  him,  was  wrecked  near 
Cape  LaguUas,  with  the  loss  of  the  whole  crew.  Three 
hundred  and  fifty  persons  perished,  and  thus  ISTugent's 
error  was  overruled  by  a  gracious  God  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  his  life.  But,  his  return  being  expected  by  this 
vessel,  the  account  of  its  loss  threw  his  parents  and 
family  into  the  deepest  afflicion.  The  whole  family 
went  into  mourning ;  and  the  father  sorrowed  for  his 
lost  child  with  a  grief  unmitigated  by  the  communication 
of  any  cheering  circumstance  as  to  the  state  of  his  mind, 
on  his  fitness  for  so  sudden  a  change. 

In  the  following  winter,  a  letter  was  delivered  to  Mr. 
Kichmond,  in  the  hand- writing  of  the  very  son  whom  he 


LOSS    OF    THE    ARNISTON.  149 

mourned  as  dead ;  announcing  that  lie  was  alive, —  tbat 
circumstances  had  prevented  his  setting  sail  in  the  Arnis- 
ton,  of  whose  fate  he  seemed  to  be  unconscious;  and 
communicating  details  of  his  present  engagements  and 
future  prospects.  The  transition  of  feeling  to  which  the 
receipt  of  this  letter  gave  rise,  produced  an  effect  almost 
as  overwhelming  as  that  which  the  report  of  his  death 
had  occasioned.  The  family-mourning  was  laid  aside, 
and  Mr.  Eichmond  trusted  he  might  recognize  in  this 
singular  interposition  of  Divine  Providence,  a  ground  for 
hope  that  his  child's  present  deliverance  was  a  pledge  of 
that  spiritual  recovery,  which  was  now  alone  wanting  to 
fill  up  the  measure  of  his  gratitude  and  praise. 

Such  interposition  of  Providence  may  be  treated  with 
indifference  and  contempt  by  men  of  the  world ;  but  Mr. 
E.  bowed  the  knee,  and  thankfully  praised  God :  "  I  have 
prayed  to  Thee,  0  Father,  in  secret,  and  Thou  hast 
rewarded  me  openly." 

Soon  after  Nugent  left  the  Arniston,  he  obtained  the 
situation  of  third  ojB&cer  in  the  brig  Kandian.  Of  this 
appointment  he  informed  his  father,  adding, 

''And  now  my  dear  parents,  while  you  are  living 
quietly  at  home,  I  am  tossed  about  the  stormy  ocean  in 
all  weathers,  and  never  knowing  that  I  am  safe  a 
moment.  I  hope  Wilberforce  will  take  warning  from 
my  sad  wanderings,  or  he  will  never  be  happy  ;  receive 
my  kind  love,  dear  father  and  mother ;  the  same  to 
my  brothers  and  sisters ;  I  hope  God  will  take  care 
of  me,  forgive  and  convert  me ;  he  is  the  best  friend ; 
do  not  cease  to  pray  for  me,  and  remember  me  still,  for 
I  am 

Your  affectionate  Son, 

K  E." 


From  some  unknown  caTise,  the  letters  from  England, 

13* 


150  LIFE    OF    NUGEXT    RICHMOND. 

tliougL.  sent  at  regular  periods,  did  not  reach,  their 
destination;  and  Nugent  suffered  mucli  anxiety  at  not 
hearing  from  his  family  :  he  writes  — 

"Ever  dear  and  affectionate  parents, 

"*         *         *  It  is  now  two  years  since  I  left 

England;  and  I  have  neither  heard  from  nor  of  you, 
except  once  from  a  missionary,  who  told  me  he  had 
seen  you  in  Yorkshire  a  few  months  after  I  sailed,  and 
that  you  were  quite  well.  He  is  a  very  good  man,  and 
I  have  been  to  hear  him  several  times.      I  have  ajso 

attended  Mr. ,  another  missionary,   and  a  valuable 

servant  of  God;  indeed  they  all  appear  to  be  of  one 
heart  and  one  spirit.      Would  to  God  I  were  like  them  I 

Mr. has   been  very  kind   to   me ;   but   he   is  a  bad 

man,  and  altogether  unfit  to  be  a  clergyman.  I  shall 
not  mention  his  faults,  for  it  seems  ungrateful  to  dwell 
on  a  benefactor's  misconduct,  or  indeed  on  the  miscon- 
duct of  any  one.  I  have  been  greatly  distressed  at 
hearing  nothing  of  my  poor  mother,  who  has  shed  so 
many  tears  on  my  account;  nor  of  my  dear  brothers 
and  sisters,  though  I  have  written  so  many  letters  to 
them. 

"  So  the  Arniston  was  lost !     Oh  I  merciful  escape. 

"I  am  sorry  to  say,  my  new  captain  is  a  wild, 
extravagant,  and  dissipated  man,  always  giving  balls  and 
routs   on  board,  or   on   shore.       *         **  *  * 

Dancing  and  singing  to  a  late  hour  is  a  sad  way  of 
spending  Saturday  night.  It  shocks  me  to  say,  my  dear 
father,  I  have  only  been  to  church  about  twelve  times 
since  I  left  England :  indeed,  sailors  scarcely  know  what 
church  is,  except  on  board  men  of  war,  where  there  is  a 
chaplain;  nevertheless,  if  we  cannot  go  to  church,  we 
seldom  work  on  a  Sunday  as  on  a  week-day  ;  so  that  I 
have  time  to  read  the  Bible  and  pray.  You  gave  me  a 
Bible  when  I  left  you,  and  I  have  it  still,  and  hope 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  PARENTS.       151 

always  to  have  it.  Oli  that  I  knew  how  to  make  a  right 
use  of  it.  Be  assured^  my  dear  father,  I  neither  dance 
nor  gamble  ;  although  there  is  much  of  both  here,  and  I 
should  please  more  if  I  did  as  others ;  I  thank  God  I 
know  not  how  to  do  either,  and  I  am  sure  I  have  no  wish 
to  be  wise  in  such  things.  I  have  encountered  many 
unpleasant  remarks  on  this  account.  Pray  for  me,  pray 
for  your  poor  Nugent ;  think,  when  you  are  in  bed,  and 
by  your  fire-side,  I  am  toiling  by  day  and  watching  by 
night,  tossed  ,about  in  gales  of  wind,  scared  by  storms  of 
thunder,  lightning,  and  rain,  ignorant  of  my  fate  for  a 
single  hour.  Oh  !  a  sailor's  life  is  wicked,  miserable,  and 
deplorable ;  but  this  is  all  the  fruit  of  my  sin,  and  I 
justly  deserve  my  chastisement.  ^  Farewell  —  that  you 
may  long  live,  and  my  mother,  and  my  sisters,  and  my 
brothers,  to  enjoy  every  blessing,  temporal  and  eternal, 
is  the  ardent  wish 

Of  your  affectionate  son, 

N.  E." 

A  few  months  after,  he  wrote  again  to  his  mother ;  — 

''  My  dearest  a^d  most  affectionate  Mother, 
"I  have  just  heard  that  the.  ship  Alexander  is 
arrived  at  Columbo,  by  which  I  hope  to  receive  letters 
from  home.  I  am  on  the  other  side  of  Ceylon,  and  I 
fear  it  may  be  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks  before  I  can 
get  them  here,  and  we  expect  to  sail  before  that  time.  I 
am  all  uneasiness  ;  and  still  more  anxious  when  I  think 
what  will  be  said  in  them.  Sometimes  I  am  pleased, 
then  I  am  grieved  and  fear :  uncertain  of  their  contents, 
still  I  long  to  read  them.  Thanks  to  an  all-merciful 
God,  I  have  succeeded  well  in  India,  especially  when  I 
consider  I  had  no  friend  to  guide  me :  but  my  success 
gives  me  little  satisfaction,  while  I  reflect  on  the  wounded 
feelings  of  an  affectionate  mother.     I  now   indeed,  see 


152  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    KICHMOND. 

and  feel  my  folly  ;  if  I  had  taken  your  advice,  I  should 
never  have  suffered  so  many  hardships ;  but  this  is  not 
my  greatest  trial,  my  sins  will  all  rise  up  against  me  in 
the  hour  of  death,  and  at  the  day  of  judgment.  Oh  I  that 
I  could  feel  this  consideration  as  I  ought ;  my  insensi- 
bility distresses  me.     May  the  Lord  help  me. 

"  Nov.  2.  No  letter.  I  am  full  of  uneasiness  and 
anxiety.  This  is  Sunday,  and  the  vessel  is  under  my 
command.  My  superior  ofiicers  are  gone  on  shore,  I 
fear  for  no  good,  they  think  very  little  of  worship, — 
officers  or  men.  The  men  are  great  gamblers.  I  went 
among  them  this  evening,  and  found  them  at  hazard :  I 
threw  the  dice  overboard,  though  probably  my  life  is  in 
danger  for  what  I  have  done,  for  the  dice  belonged  to  a 
Spaniard,  who  thinks  nothing  of  using  his  stiletto :  but 
I  have  done  what  I  considered  my  duty,  and  I  must 
trust  God  with  the  consequences.  The  Portuguese 
sailors,  when  provoked,  are  as  revengeful  as  the 
Spaniards:  the  other  night  I  nearly  lost  my  life  from 
a  party  of  them;  there  had  been  a  quarrel  between 
some  Portuguese  and  English  sailors;  I  was  walking 
alone  on  shore,  and  fifteen  of  the^former  came  up  and 
asked  me  to  what  nation  I  belonged;  and  on  my  reply- 
ing, "  To  the  English,"  they  lifted  up  their  cudgels  to 
level  me  with  the  ground.  I  raised  my  arms  to  defend 
my  head,  when  they  discovered  my  uniform  and  buttons, 
and  cried  out,  '  Don 't  strike  him ! '  for  they  perceived  I 
was  not  a  common  sailor,  or  I  certainly  should  have  been 
killed  on  the  spot.  This  was  another  wonderful  escape. 
God  is  very  good  to  me,  and  I  long  to  make  a  suitable 
return  to  him. 

''  Nov.  4.  This  day  my  letters  are  arrived,  but  they 
are  a  series  of  sorrows  to  me.  When  I  read  the  first, 
how  I  felt  ?  I  could  scarcely  hold  it  in  my  hand :  I 
sobbed  and  wept.  Oh!  my  poor  mother;  I  have 
occasioned  your  illness,  and  endangered  your  life.     I  do 


LETTERS    TO     HIS     PARENTS.  153 

not  know  how  to  go  on  writing ;  I  cannot  put  two  words 
comfortably  together.     I  know,  my  dear  mother,   you 

prayed  for  me  in  that  trying  hour 

"Mr.    B ,    who    is    returning    to    Europe,    has 

behaved  very  kindly  to  me  ever  since  I  first  knew  him, 
which  is  now  more  than  a  year;  he  will  tell  you  all 
about  me.  I  am  conscious  of  not  being  what  you 
would  vash  me  to  be,  but  I  hope,  by  God's  grace,  to 
be  made  altogether  such  as  you  desire.  I  know  you 
pray  for  me  continually,  and  I  trust  that  God  will 
change  my  heart  before  I  die.  Farewell,  my  dear 
mother;  I  shall  write  whenever  opportunity  serves; 
do  you  write  constantly  to  me.  Remember  me  most 
kindly  to  my  father,  brothers,  and  sisters.  That  they 
may  live  long  in  the  enjoyment  of  every  blessing,  is  the 
earnest  prayer  for  them  all,  of 

Your  affectionate 
N." 

I  have  ever  remarked  that  no  case  is  hopeless  where 
there  is  strong  affection.  An  unimpassioned  soul  is 
seldom  touched  by  any  thing  beyond  the  range  of  its 
own  selfish  gratifications,  and  usually  presents  a  stub- 
born resistance  to  considerations  which  affect  only,  or 
chiefly,  the  welfare  of  others ;  but  an  affectionate  temper, 
amidst  many  sinful  wanderings,  is  still  capable  of  im- 
pressions. 

The  letters  of  Nugent  discover  a  very  feeling  and 
grateful  spirit,  a  sense  of  obligation,  and  a  self-condem- 
nation for  past  misconduct.  They  display  a  conflict 
between  duty  and  irregular  inclination,  and,  in  some 
instances,  a  firmness  of  principle  far  above  mere  nature. 
They  could  not  fail  to  inspire  a  pleasing  expectation, 
that  though  an  enemy  had  sown  tares  in  the  field,  the 
wheat  would  ultimately  overtop  them  and  grow  to  matu- 
rity.    Mr.  Richmond's  heart  was  full  of  hope,  and  his 


154  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

faitli  leaned  on  tlie  promises  of  God  with  firmer  depend- 
ence ;  lie  was  encouraged  to  more  vigorous  perseverance 
in  interceding  for  his  much-loved  child ;  he  had  carried 
his  sorrows  to  God,  and  he  now  praised  him  for  his 
faithfulness  in  alleviating  them.  About  this  time  the 
following  letter  was  received  from  a  missionary  at  Co- 
lumbo,  which  bears  an  honourable  testimony  to  JSfugent's 
improved  conduct.  It  will  be  read  with  interest  by  those 
who  can  sympathize  with  a  father's  sufferings,  or  under- 
stand the  joy  which  welcomes  a  returning  penitent. 

"  Dear  and  Eeverend  Sir, 
'^I  have  no  doubt  you  will  excuse  the  liberty  a 
stranger  takes,  who  knows  you  only  by  name,  in  writing 
to  you  a  few  lines,  which  cannot  fail  to  interest  both  you 
and  your  family.  I  have  a  father's  heart,  and  know 
well  the  feelings  with  which  you  will  receive  the  infor- 
mation I  send  you  respecting  Mr.  N"ugent  Kichmond, 
your  once  disobedient  son.  It  would  be  most  pleasing 
to  me  to  say  that  he  is  a  humble  penitent,  seeking  life 
and  salvation  through  the  boundless  merits  of  a  crucified 
Eedeemer ;  but  though  I  fear  to  go  thus  far,  I  am  war- 
ranted to  bear  testimony  to  a  real  change  in  him  in  many 
respects.  He  is  become  quite  steady  in  his  conduct,  and 
is  very  attentive  to  the  duties  of  his  profession,  and  you 
have  not  the  least  cause  for  anxiety  with  regard  to  his 
temporal  welfare ;  nor  is  he  by  any  means  careless  and 
unconcerned  about  the  things  which  make  for  his 
eternal  peace.  He  is  much  more  anxious  than  he  used 
to  be  for  religious  society,  and  often  attends  our  evening 
meetings.  .  This  morning  he  breakfasted  with  us,  and  I 
endeavoured  to  supply  your  place  in  my  poor  way,  by 
interrogating  him  in  t^e  most  serious  manner,  respecting 
the  state  of  his  soul ;  a^d  y^h^JX  I  found  him  unprepared 
to  answer  me  in  the  way  I  Fished,  I  urged  his  still  closer 
»ttenti<js2  to  religion,  by  mptiyes  addressed  to  his  hopes 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    PARENTS.  155 

and  fears.  I  read  to  him  the  fifty-first  Psalm,  and  he 
listened  with  deep  interest,  and  seemed  to  feel  every 
word.  I  prayed  for  him  in  my  family  worship,  and 
enjoyed  a  more  than  usual  freedom  in  spreading  his  case 
before  the  Lord.  When  we  rose  from  our  knees,  I 
believe  there  were  few  dry  eyes.  On  the  whole,  I  think 
we  have  reason  to  hope^he  best  respecting  your  son :  I 
advised  him  to  read  some  passage  in  the  Bible  every  day 
with  special  application  to  his  own  case,  and  to  turn  it 
into  prayer  for  himself  I  have  heard  many  acknowledge 
that  they  have  received  great  benefit  from  praying  in 
Grod's  own  words.  May  poor  Kugent  be  another  instance. 
I  cannot  close  this  hasty  letter,  without  informing  you 
of  the  good  effect  of  the  Dairyman's  Daughter  in  Ceylon. 
A  person  of  whose  conversion  I  do  not  doubt,  and  who 
has  joined  our  little  church,  ascribes  his  change  of  heart 
to  God  and  you. 

"Begging  you  will  read  with  candor  what   I   have 
written  with  difficulty ; 

"  I  am,  with  respectful  and  affectionate  regard, 

Yours, 
J.  0." 

The  caution  with  which  this  correspondent  speaks  of 
conversion,  renders  his  testimony  the  more  valuable ; 
yet  it  appears  to  me  very  evident,  that  Nugent  was 
making  progress  towards  a  complete  surrender  of  his 
heart  to  God,  and  that  his  mind  was  at  this  time  under 
the  influence  of  real  principle.  lie  might  be  less  ac- 
quainted than  others  with  esperime^tal  religion,  and 
have  much  to  learn  as  to  the  cause  of  all  his  wanderings, 
and  the  entire  corruption  of  his  heart :  defects  of  this ' 
kind  he  laments  himself,  and  in  all  his  letters  cle2.cribe-3 
his  case  rather  as  that  of  one  wl^o  soqks  and  longs 
to  be  a  true  convert,  than  of  one  who  h^3  C^ttTO^vi 
a  saving  change:  still,  in  a  long  ^,vm  oP corresponrleuco 


156  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

before  me,  I  remark  in  him  a  gradual,  and  very  real 
approximatioa  to  all  that  is  correct  in  opinion  and  con- 
duct; he  never  reflects  on  any  one  but  himself;  he 
labours  to  guard  his  brothers  against  sin,  by  the  know- 
ledge of  its  effects  and  consequences  in  his  own  history ; 
he  bears  an  affectionate  testimony  to  the  conscientious 
consistency  of  his  parents ;  he  wishes  for  an  opportunity 
to  make  some  suitable  returns  for  their  kindness;  he 
connects  every  event  with  the  disposition  of  Divine 
Providence ;  he  secures  the  respect  and  countenance  of 
every  one  by  his  steady  and  correct  conduct ;  he  courts 
the  society  of  good  people  ;  he  firmly  resists  evil,  though 
attended  with  danger  to  himself;  and  on  all  occasions 
expresses  himself  with  so  much  affection  and  veneration 
for  true  religion,  as  on  the  whole  satisfies  my  own  mind, 
that  if  even  he  had  now  been  removed  from  the  world, 
his  family  would  have  had  no  reason  to  have  sorrowed 
as  those  without  hope.  There  is  not,  however  in  these 
letters  such  a  degree  of  interest  to  persons  unacquainted 
with  him,  as  to  warrant  their  introduction.  A  sufficient 
number  relating  to  this  period  are  already  before  the 
reader,  to  show  the  value  of  early  instruction  under 
every  circumstance. 

The  young  sailor  quitted  the  Kenyon,  which  was  sold 
by  the  government,  and  went  on  board  the  Oracabessa^ 
from  which  vessel  he  wrote  to  his  father  the  following 
affecting  account  of  the  state  of  slavery  at  the  Mauritius ; 
—  a  letter  full  of  correct  feeling,  and  still  more  satisfact- 
ory evidence  of  right  conduct. 

'  My  dear  Father, 
•'We  are  on  the  point  o£  sailing  for  the  Mauritius 
*  *  *  I  know  that  you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that 
I  am  taking  out  some  Bibles,  Testaments,  and  tracts,  in 
different  languages,  which  were  sent  to  me  by  my  friend 
Lieutenant  B ,  to  distribute  and   try  what   good  I 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    PAREKTS.  157 

could  do  there.  How  is  it  there  are  no  missionaries  at 
the  Mauritius  ?  an  island  containing  thirty  thousand 
souls ;  ten  thousand  whites,  and  twenty  thousand  men 
of  colour.  I  can  safely  assure  you,  there  is  no  part  of 
the  world  where  the  British  flag  is  flying,  which  is  half 
so  ignorant,  or  in  such  a  dreadful  state  of  darkness : 
there  is,  indeed,  scarcely  any  religion  at  all  there ;  what 
there  is,  is  Eoman  Catholic ;  it  is  true  there  is  an  English 
church,  and  perhaps  from  twenty  to  thirty  persons  in 
it  once  a  day,  and  the  clergyman  *  *  *  *  bat 
the  island,  from  one  end  to  the  other,  exhibits  every 
species  of  vice,  without  control  or  check  of  any  kind. 
Slavery,  as  you  know,  is  the  cause  of  everything  that  is 
bad :  never  were  its  frightful  effects  more  clearly  shown 
than  in  this  place ;  they  are  far  worse  than  even  in  our 
West  India  plantations.  I  have  been  an  eye-witness  to 
scenes  altogether  shocking  to  humanity:  the  heaviest 
punishments  are  inflicted  for  faults,  which  in  England 
would  receive  a  trifling  fine,  or  a  short  imprisonment. 
Masters  have  chopped  off  the  ears  of  their  slaves,  and 
in  some  instances,  have  literally  starved  them  to  death. 
Neither  is  the  slave-trade  extinct  in  this  part  of  the 
world,  but  is  still  carried  on  to  great  extent.  There  may 
be  a  stricter  watch  against  the  slave- vessels,  but  never- 
theless they  are  here  every  month,  and  I  have  known 
the  slaves  to  have  been  taken  into  harbour  in  empty 
water-casks  to  elude  detection. 

"Now,  my  father,  take  your  Atlas  and  look  at  the 
position  of  Mauritius,  Bambour,  and  Madagascar,  with 
the  African  main.  Slaves  are  to  be  procured  at  either 
of  the  last  places  for  about  thirty  dollars  a-head.  If 
taken  to  Bourbon,  or  the  Mauritius,  they  fetch  from 
three  to  four  hundred  dollars.  Is  not  this  an  irresistible 
temptation  to  a  slave-trader,  when  he  is  sure  of  his 
price  if  he  can  escape  the  vigilance  of  the  naval  officers  ? 
If  you  look  at  the  position  of  these  places,  you  may 

14 


158  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

judge  of  tlie  ease  of  carrying  on  this  traffic,  wlien  I  tell 
yon  that  there  is  only  one  man  of  war  in  the  harbour  of 
Port  Louis  to  search  vessels  which  come  in  ;  and  not  one 
cruising  about  this  coast,  though  it  is  well  known  that 
there  are  five  Spanish  ships,  two  Portuguese,  and  one 
English,  employed  in  the  trade.  One  of  these  vessels 
was  lately  wrecked  there ;  of  the  crew,  one  sailor  only 
was  saved,  who  is  now  on  board  our  ship ;  he  has  fre- 
quently conversed  with  me,  and  I  am  persuaded  his 
information  is  correct. 

''Now  can  nothing  be  done  to  restrain  the  cruel 
treatment  of  these  poor  creatures  ?  On  landing  at  Port 
Louis,  you  would  see  one  of  them  in  irons,  and  as  you 
advanced,  another  flogged  most  unmercifully,  without 
distinction  of  sex  ;  and  in  general  no  clothing  allowed  ; 
some  kind-hearted  masters  give  a  dollar  a- jear  for  clothes. 
There  is,  I  believe,  a  code  of  laws,  but  they  are  never 
enforced.  I  have  myself  seen  slaves  unable  to  stand, 
from  the  severity  of  their,  punishment ;  thirty  in  a  row, 
on  whose  backs  gashes,  not  lashes,  might  be  observed, 
pieces  fairly  cut  out,  and  in  some  instances  an  eye  forced 
out,  and  there  is  no  redress  :  nor  are  they  fed  properly. 
I  had  forty-five  of  them  working  under  me,  for  whom 
their  owner  received  a  dollar  a  day  per  head ;  they 
worked  from  sun-rise  to  sun-set :  and  what  was  their 
food  ?  For  breakfast  a  cake,  made  of  a  kind  of  potatoe, 
weighing  three  ounces  ;  for  dinner  half  a  pound  of  boiled 
rice,  with  one  spoonful  of  assinge,  or  an  equal  quantity 
of  horse-beans ;  for  supper,  the  same  as  at  breakfast, 
with  a  little  water  to  drink. 

''  I  will  tell  you  an  instance  which  I  know  to  be  true, 
amidst  many  others,  which  I  have  heard  from  men  of 
veracity.  A  woman  flogged  her  own  sister,  who  was 
'unfortunately  her  slave  also,  till  she  fainted.  She  then 
twisted  her  arms  till  the  poor  creature  nearly  expired. 
She  tlien  let  her  recover,  and  singed  her  flesh  with  a  hot 


LETTERS  TO  HIS  PARENTS.       159 

iron;  *  «  -js-  ^  *  the  sufferer  never 
complained  ;  indeed  if  she  had,  it  would  have  been  worse 
for  her  in  the  end ;  the  truth  is,  there  is  a  combination 
among  the  people  of  the  whole  island  to  resist  the  law, 
and  support  each  other  in  their  acts  of  oppression.  My 
object  in  mentioning  these  things  to  you,  is,  that  you 
should  first  make  inquiry  to  satisfy  yourself  of  the  truth 
of  the  facts,  and  fhen  try  to  get  something  done  for  these 
wretched  beings.  If  such  cruelties  be  passed  by  with 
indifference  in  the  harbour,  what  unobserved  abomina- 
tions may  be  expected  in  the  interior  of  the  island. 

"  It  is  said  that  the  climate  requires  no  clothing,  but 
this  is  false :  the  nights  are  very  cold  and  the  season 
sometimes  severe.  I  have  even  slept  under  several 
blankets  and  been  cold.  How  many  poor  souls  have 
not  one  I  *  *  *  Kindest  love  to  all,  and 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Father, 

Your  affectionate  Son, 

K  K." 

From  the  Bay  of  All-saints,  he  touches  again  on  this 
horrid  traffic ;  —  "I  have  made  many  observations  on  the 
country  and  people  here,  and  particularly  on  the  slave- 
trade;  all  of  which  will  confirm  what  I  have  already 
told  you  respecting  it.  This  port  is  full  of  slave-ships, 
and  I  am  lying  close  to  one  which  has  just  landed  seven 
hundred,  men,  women  and  children.  What  a  pity  this 
nation  should  persist  in  this  infamous  traffic;  I  admit 
the  slaves  are  better  used  than  in  some  other  places,  but 
still  they  are  exposed  to  the  caprices  and  unrestrained 
passions  of  corrupt  nature. 

^'1  have  been  distributing  tracts  and  Bibles,  which 
some  have  rejected  with  scorn,  and  others  received  with 
thanks-  I  assure  you  I  have  spent  more  time  in  this 
way,  than  in  attending  to  my  worldly  interest,  and  so 
I  ought ;  for  I  am  indebted  to  Him  for  all  my  mercies, 


160  LIFE     OF    NUGENT    EICHMOND. 

in  whose  cause  I  am  so  labouring  ?  and  if  only  one 
Bible  finds  its  way  to  the  heart,  what  shall  I  think  of 
my  task  in  eternity.  Wherever  I  go,  I  will  labour 
faithfully  in  this  good  work,  to  the  utmost  of  my  power, 
and  particularly  in  the  Isle  of  France,  for  that  island  is 
grievously  neglected  as  to  all  spiritual  instruction. 

"  I  have  conversed  with  two  catholic  priests,  they 
appear  to  me  to  be  pious  men,  though  they  refuse  to 
sanction  the  distribution  of  the  Scriptures  among  the 
laity.     I  confess  I  am  not  able  to  argue  with  them." 

Upon  the  chief  subjects  of  these  letters,  we  may  again 
remark  the  happy  recollections  of  his  early  years.  From 
his  excellent  father  he  had  imbibed  an  aversion  to  this 
iniquitous  traffic,  and  a  sense  of  its  wretched  effects  on 
the  well-being,  both  of  the  oppressor  and  the  oppressed ; 
from  him  he  had  learnt  also  to  value  the  Holy  Scriptures 
as  God's  best  gift  to  a  ruined  world,  and  had  received 
associations  of  sentiment  and  affection  which  no  subse- 
quent Avanderings  of  sinful  inclination,  no  exposure  to 
the  temptations  of  scenes  full  of  danger,  and  abounding 
with  iniquity,  could  ever  obliterate.  The  principles  of 
his  education  restrained  him  in  his  worst  moments,  and 
they  obtained  a  permanent  ascendancy  with  the  return 
of  those  better  feelings  which  were  produced  by  the 
salutary  correction  of  his  misfortunes.  In  his  case,  the 
experiment  of  a  voyage  was  successful,  though  it  may 
be  doubted  whether,  in  general,  any  other  result  can 
reasonably  be  expected  from  it  than  a  confirmation  of  a 
young  man's  evil  propensities.  It  seemed  good  to  a 
wise  and  gracious  God  to  exercise  this  misguided,  but 
affectionate  youth,  with  a  succession  of  disappointments, 
mingled  with  merciful  preservations,  and  to  train  him  in 
the  school  of  adversity,  to  show  the  good  effect  of  a  pious 
father's  instructions,  and  the  rich  value  of  his  blessings 
and  prayers. 

His  shipwrecks — his  loses — and  the  severe  trial  in 


LETTEKS    TO    HIS    PAKENTS.  161 

the  death  of  an  amiable  young  woman  to  whom  he  was 
engaged  in  marriage,  have  been  detailed  by  another 
hand ;  and  I  have  only  to  add  a  few  extracts  from 
numerous  letters  in  my  possession,  illustrative  of  his 
progress  in  unfeigned  piety. 

"  The  happiest  day  I  could  see  in  this  world,  would 
be  that  on  which  I  might  mingle  myself  once  more 
with  you  all.  Oh !  with  what  joy  should  I  return  to 
you,  my  dear  father,  and  my  dear  mother,  to  receive 
your  forgiveness,  and  welcome  home  again.  God  only 
knows  whether  we  shall  ever  meet  on  this  side  eternity  ; 
there  seems  to  be  more  difficulties  and  obstacles  in  my 
way  every  year. 

"  The  next  happy  day  would  be  when  the  Lord,  who 
has  been  ever  kind  and  merciful  to  me,  should  entirely 
wean  me  from  this  wicked  world  and  its  temptations ; 
then  should  I  be  as  happy  as  I  wish  to  be. 

"  My  Bible,  which  is  everything,  is  the  only  means 
of  grace  I  have ;  by  reading  it,  with  some  other  good 
books,  tracts,  and  sermons,  I  hope  to  keep  close  to  the 
fear  of  God. 

"  There  are  two  clergymen  here,  but,  alas  !  —  I  must 
say  no  evil,  when  I  can  say  no  good  of  them.  I  wish 
some  missionaries,  truly  pious  men,  were  sent  out  to  us ; 
I  assure  you  we  have  great  need  of  spiritual  instructors. 
A  good  man  preached  in  a  brig  close  to  us  yesterday  ; 
and  I  hope  next  Sunday  to  hoist  the  flag  of  Zion  at  our 
main -mast  head. 

"  My  dear  father,  you  have  now  four  sons,  will  you 
spare  me  one  of  them  ?  it  will  be  a  great  charge,  but 
not  the  first  of  the  kind.  I  have  had  a  youngster  three 
years  under  my  care,  and  it  will  be  some  security  to  you 
for  riiy  proper  conduct,  when  I  tell  you  that  Lieutenant 

B is  going  to  put  his  younger  son  under  my  manage- 

mei\,t.     He  is  a  pious  man,  and  his  confidence  in  me  may 

14* 


162  LIFE    OF    NUGENT    RICHMOND. 

serve  to  sliow  that  I  am  not  altogether  undeserving  of 
yours. 

^'I  have  never  kept  my  birth-day  but  once  siDce  I 
left  England.  I  sat  and  felt  so  melancholy,  instead  of 
being  joyful ;  and  with  good  reason,  when  I  look  back 
on  years  that  are  past. 

*'  We  sail  for  the  Mauritius  to-morrow,  and  I  have 
humbly  besought  the  Lord,  who  has  ever  been  merciful 
to  me,  to  protect  and  preserve  us  all." 

"  Oh,  my  good  father,  no  one  can  imagine  the  hor- 
rors of  a  shipwreck,  but  those  who  have  experienced  it. 
Many, 'many  heartfelt  thanks  to  that  Providence  which 
has  again  rescued  me  from  a  watery  grave.  I  had 
made  a  little  fortune,  and  was  returning  home  with 
presents  for  my  family,  and  with  three  beautiful 
sbawls  for  my  dear  mother ;  but  all  is  lost,  except  one 
trunk,  in  which  was  my  Bible  and  the  Dairyman's 
Daughter.  Thus  all  my  hopes  and  expectations  have 
been  frustrated.  Yet  I  believe  these  things  are  for' my 
good.  I  must  begin  the  world  afresh,  and  I  hope  to  do 
so  in  more  senses  than  one.  Tell  my  dear  mother  not  to 
grieve  for  my  misfortunes,  God  knows  what  is  best  for  us. 

"  While  the  ship  was  driving,  and  it  blew  a  perfect 
hurricane,  I  went  down  to  my  cabin  to  pray  to  the 
Lord  for  his  assistance  and  protection  in  this  trying- 
hour.  In  the  midst  of  pra}/er,  and  while  the  tears 
were  in  my  eyes,  the  ship  struck  on  the  sand,  with  a 
shock  that  brought  many  to  the  ground ;  I  staggered  a 
little,  tbough  on  my  knees,  and  my  little  L.  B — was 
thrown  off  a  chest  on  which  he  lay  close  to  me.  Every 
thing  was  now  confusion.  In  the  mean  time  I  again 
went  below  and  prayed  with  heart  and  soul  to  Almighty 
God  to  save  us  : — and  my  prayers  were  answered,  * 
*  *  for  a  certain  sometliing  —  a  kind  of  comfortable 
thought  seemed  to  rise  within  me  and  say,  '  Thy  life 
shall    be  spared.'    Not   all  the   shocks,  seas,   or  winds 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    PAEENTS.  -163 

could  afterwards  make  me  fear  or  think  the  contrary. 
Surely  there  neve^^was  a  greater  proof  than  this,  that 
the  Lord  is  always  with  us.  It  animated  and  comforted 
me,  and  made  me  work  and  exert  myself  with  redoubled 
vigour,  though  a  great  part  of  the  night  it  rained  hard 
accompained  with  thunder  and  lightning. 

"Oh I  how  thankful  I  ought  to  be  to  Almighty  God 
for  his  many  mercies  repeatedly  shown  to  me;  indeed, 
I  trust  I  know  that  suitable  returns  are  expected  from 
me.  *****  "When  I  look  back  on  the  last 
twenty-five  years,  I  am  lost  in  wonder  and  astojiish- 
ment.  My  dear  father,  do  not  forget  the  eighteenth 
of  July. 

"  One  thing  grieved  me  in  the  shipwreck  more  than 
all — the  loss  of  some  valuable  presents  for  my  family; 
but  this  is  G  od's  will ;  it  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  all  is 
for  the  best. 

"I  am  returning  home  for  the  re-establishment  of 
my  health,  which  has  suffered  severely  from  exposure 
to  hardships  by  night  and  day :  but  the  happiness  of 
seeing  you  all  once  more,  will  not  a  little  contribute  to 
my  restoration.  My  heart  beats,  and  my  head  turns 
giddy  at  the  thought  of  this  meeting ;  it  wijl  be  both  a 
pleasing  and  a  painful  one  to  me. 

"Do  not  expect  me  before  the  end  of  July  or  the 
beginning  of  August.  I  shall,  of  course,  write  to  my 
father  on  my  arrival,  that  I  may  not  take  you  by  sur- 
prise. And  oh !  my  dear  mother,  pray  for  a  safe 
voyage  for  me,  and  a  happy  meeting  to  us  all.  I  have 
had  many  trials,  afflictions,  and  crosses  for  the  last  ten 
months,  but  I  feel  the  loss  of  her  to  whom  I  was 
engaged,  most  of  all,  perhaps  too  much.  Still  in  all 
these  things  there  is  one  great  consolation ;  they  are 
sent  by  him  who  careth  for  me.  I  believe  they  are  all 
ordered  in  wisdom  and  mercy,  though  you  and  I  may 
not  be  able  to  interpret  their  meaning.     K  we  could  see 


164  LIFE     OF    NUGENT    EICHMOND. 

the  end,  as  we  shall  do  by  and  by,  I  am  quite  satisfied 
we  should  gratefully  acknowledge  that  they  were 
intended  for  good ;  and  this  comfortable  assurance, 
through  him  who  loveth  us  better  than  we  love  our- 
selves, will,  I  trust,  be  my  supjDort,  and  inspire  me 
with  cheerful  resignation  and  renewed  confidence  in 
God.  I  have  many  thoughts  about  eternity ;  though 
alas !  the  Wicked  One  strives  to  banish  them  from  my 
mind. 

"Your  truly  valuable  letters,  my  dear  mother,  dis- 
cover so  much  affection  and  kindness  towards  me,  that 
I  know  not  how  to  express  my  joy  and  thankfulness; 
they  often  draw  tears  from  my  eyes,  and  are  the  dearer 
to  me  the  more  I  read  them.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say, 
to  propose,  and  to  request,  and  hardly  know  whether  to 
begin  now,  or  wait  till  1  have  the  joy  of  seeing  my  dear- 
est parents.  "What  a  meeting  will  this  be !  I  seem  to 
dread  it,  though  it  will  be  a  grief  inexpressible  were  it 
not  to  take  place.  *  *  -J^  *  *  Pray  for  an  unfor- 
tunate wanderer,  and  may  God  answer  your  prayers,  to 
my  present  and  eternal  good." 

The  expected  return  of  Nugent  was  an  event  which 
warmed  every  heart  in  Turvey  Eectory  with  the  most 
anxious  and  affectionate  sympathy.  The  whole  family 
was  eager,  either  to  welcome  a  relative  whom  they 
scarcely  knew  but  by  report,  or  to  renew  an  affection 
which  time  and  distance  had  not  effaced,  but  rather 
strengthened. 

Mrs.  Kichmond  fitted  up,  partly  with  her  own  hand, 
a  room  for  her  son's  reception,  and  arranged  everj^thing 
to  testify  her  regard  for  the  returning  child,  and  banish 
every  painful  recollection  from  his  mind ;  but  after  the 
lapse  of  a  few  months,  his  death,  instead  of  his  arrival, 
was  announced. 

His  constitution  had  been  greatly  impaired  by  un- 


LETTERS    TO    HIS    PARENTS.  165 

healthy  climates,  and  the  s accession  of  hardships  to 
which  he  had  been  exposed,  and  both  his  health  and 
spirits  finally  sunk  under  the  last  and  greatest  trial,  the 

death  of  Miss  .     After  this  event  he  resolved  on 

returning  immediately  to  England. 

Previous  to  the  voyage  he  had  an  attack  of  fever,  and 
embarked  in  very  weak  health.  The  ship  met  with  a 
heavy  gale,  which  induced  him  to  exert  himself  beyond 
his  strength ;  he  had  a  relapse  of  fever,  became  very  ill, 
and  was  occasionally  delirious.  Immediate  danger  was 
not  apprehended :  but  one  night  he  went  to  bed  about 
twelve  o'clock,  and  was  found  dead  in  his  cabin  the  next 
morning,  to  the  surprise  and  grief  of  all  on  board,  by 
whom  he  was  universally  beloved  and  respected. 

Alone  in  the  hour  of  his  departure  from  sin  and  sor- 
row, yet  not  alone,  for  his  God,  and  the  God  of  his 
father  was  with  him,  and  gave  him  rest  from  the  days 
of  adversity. 

An  ivory  box  containing  a  few  jewels  and  gold-chains, 
which  he  had  intended  as  presents  for  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  was  discovered  in  his  pocket  after  his  decease. 
On  the  inside  of  the  cover,  the  following  lines  were 
written  in  his  own  hand  in  pencil,  apparently  a  short 
time  before  his  death. 

Where  vice  has  held  his  empire  long, 
'Twill  not  endure  the  least  control : 
None  but  a  power  divinely  strong, 
Can  turn  the  current  of  the  soul. 
Great  God  I  I  own  the  power  divine, 
That  works  to  change  this  heart  of  mine  j 
I  would  be  formed  anew,  and  bless 
The  wonders  of  redeeming  grace. 

While  little  was  known  of  his  dying  moments,  the 
most  satisfactory  accounts  of  his  living  hours  were 
received  by    Mr.  Richmond   from   many  persons    who, 


166  LIFE     OF     NUGENT     RICHMOND. 

for    some    years,    had    observed    JSTugent's    exemplar) 
conduct.*^ 

In  the  letter  to  his  daughter  at  Glasgow,  Mr.  R.  thuo 
adverted  to  them :  — 

"  The  circumstances  attendant  upon  our  dear  Nugent'a 
end  are  few  and  simple.  You  are  aware  what  a  long 
series  of  favourable  accounts  of  his  general  behaviour  we 
have  had  from  a  variety  of  quarters.  You  should  know, 
that  from  at  least  five  religious  friends  I  have  received 
highly  satisfactory  testimonies  of  his  religious  feelings 
and  principles,  although  he  was  modest  and  reserved  in 
speaking  of  himself.  I  had  much  information  while  I 
was  visiting  his  most  intimate  friend,  Mr.  Bailey,  in  the 
Isle  of  Wight,  (late  of  Gibraltar),  whose  little  babe  was 
christened  Mercy  ISTugent  Richmond.  The  time  of  his 
shipwreck  seemed  to  have  been  one  of  special  prayer 
and  impression. 

'^His  affections  for  his  relatives  were  very  strong. 
His  principles  of  honourable  conduct,  integrity,  pecu- 
niary accuracy,  official  diligence,  kind  manners,  and 
moral  deportment,  were  exemplary.  He  lived  in  much 
esteem,  and  died  much  beloved.  Dear  boy!  He  was 
snatched  from  our  embraces  at  the  hour  of  his  returning 
to  them.  He  is  buried  in  the  depths  of  the  ocean.  But 
the  sea  shall  give  np  her  dead,  and  I  trust  he  shall  then 
appear  a  living  soul." 

A  melancholy  feeling  steals  over  the  spirits,  as  we 

*  The  chief  part  of  his  property  Tras  lost  with  the  Oracabessa;  but  he  left, 
out  of  the  scanty  store  reserved  from  three  shipwrecks,  a  hundred  rupees  to 
general  charitable  purposes :  601.  to  the  Bible  Society,  501.  to  the  Church 
Missionary  Society,  60Z.  to  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge, 
and  50l.  to  the  Keligious  Tract  Society.  The  selection  of  these  charitable 
institutions  was  probably  designed  to  express  affection  and  respect  for  his 
father's  preferences,  as  well  as  regard  on  his  own  part  for  the  truths  of 
religion. 


HIS    DEATH.  167 

follow  tHis  first-born  son  of  an  excellent  man  through, 
each  succeeding  calamity  of  his  life,  to  a  solitary  death. 

We  must  adore  in  silence,  confidently  resting  on  the 
wisdom  and  goodness  of  Him  whom  clcads  and  darkness 
surround,  while  '  righteousness  and  truth  are  the  habita- 
tions of  his  seat.' 

The  history  before  us  exhibits  in  che  clearest  light 
(and  this  is  my  chief  purpose  in  writing  it)  the  ines 
timable  blessing  of  a  pious  parent,  and  the  value  of 
religious  education  under  all  possible  contingencies.  '  In 
the  morning  sow  thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening  withhold 
not  thine  hand,  for  thou  knowest  not  whether  shall 
prosper,  either  this  or  that,  or  whether  they  both  shall  be 
alike  good.'  (Eccles.  xi.  6.) 


168       LIFE    OF    WILBERFOECE    RICHMOND. 


CHAPTER   YI. 

**  And  therefore  wert  thou  bread  to  virtuous  knowledge, 
And  wisdom  early  planted  in  thy  soul." 

ROWE. 

WiLBERFORCE  was  the  second  son  of  his  father,  and 
was  born  in  Turvej  Rectory,  Aug.  20,  1807. 

Mr.  R.  intended  to  have  added  another  tract  to  the 
annals  of  pious  young  people.  He  had  prepared  mate- 
rials for  this  purpose,  and  had  even  chosen  that  title  for 
his  narrative,  which  I  have  adopted  for  the  present  tri- 
bute of  affection  to  his  memory.  It  is  deeply  to  be 
regretted  that  he  did  not  live  to  execute  his  design. 
His  talent  for  religious  biography  was  peculiar,  perhaps 
unequalled.  He  drew  his  sketches  from  real  life,  with 
a  scrupulous  attention  to  truth,  and  never  failed  to 
touch  the  heart.  But  such  was  the  poignancy  of  his 
feelings  in  the  recollection  of  past  scenes,  that  he  was 
often  compelled  to  lay  aside  the  attempt,  and  wait  for  a 
season  of  greater  composure.  Meanwhile  his  own  in- 
creasing infirmities,  and  his  final  removal  from  earthly 
scenes  and  earthly  sorrows,  deprived  the  Christian  world 
of  a  most  instructive  memoir,  which,  though  complete 
in  the  outline,  and  comprising  all  he  meant  to  say  of  his 
son,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  is  so  imperfect  in  its 
detail,  that  no  farther  use  can  be  made  of  his  materials, 
than  to  guide  me  in  my  feeble  delineation  of  the  character 
of  this  interesting  boy. 

Soon  after  his  birth  he  was  received  into  the  Christian 
church  by  the  rite  of  baptism,  when  his  father  called 
him  Wilberforce,  connecting  with  that  name  the  most 


wilberfokce's  pursuits.  169 

important  event  in  his  own  life,  his  conversion  to  Grod 
by  the  perusal  of  the  '  Practical  Yiew  of  Christianity.'  * 

While  an  infant  he  was  taken  by  his  parents  on  a 

visit  to .      Certain  associations  impart  an  interest 

to  circumstances  apparently  trivial,  while  they  are 
fondly  regarded  as  presages  of  future  eminence,  and 
often  stimulate  to  the  diligent  employment  of  means  for 
its  attainment.  Of  this  character  is  the  following 
anecdote :  — 

"I  cannot  forget  a  circumstance  which  occurred  in 
his  infancy ;  his  mother  and  myself  were  on  a  visit  at 
a  friend's  house.  A  large  family  were  assembled  at 
morning  prayers,  and  amongst  them  was  our  little  boy 
in  his  nurse's  arms.  An  aged  and  •venerable  minister 
was  conducting  the  family-worship.  In  the  midst  of 
his  prayer  the  child  began  to  cry.  The  good  man 
paused,  and  beckoned  the  servant  to  give  him  the  infant. 
He  took  him  in  his  arms,  and  held  him  for  several 
minutes,  during  which  he  offered  up  most  affecting 
petitions  on  his  behalf,  praying '  earnestly,  and  in  a 
manner  that  touched  all  our  hearts,  that  it  might  please 
God  to  bless  him  for  time  and  eternity ;  that  if  his  life 
were  spared,  he  might  be  a  blessing  to  his  parents  and 
the  church  of  God,  and  finally  have  an  inheritance  with 
the  saints  in  light.  He  then  returned  the  child,  now 
pacified,  to  the  nurse's  arms,  and  resumed  the  general 
subject  of  his  prayer,  which  had  been  thus  interrupted. 
There  was  an  affecting  singularity  in  the  transaction, 
which  much  interested  us  at  the  time,  and  now  that  I 
am  engaged  in  the  retrospective  view  of  what  passed, 
from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  of  my  beloved  son,  it  recurs 
to  my  recollection  with  peculiar  emotions  of  heart.  The 
venerable  man  of  God  is  long  since  gone  to  his  rest,  but 
his  prayer  was  recorded  in  heaven,  and  the  Lord  in 
mercy  has  given  it  a  gracious  answer." 

*  See  Memoir  of  Mr.  Richmond,  p.  28. 


170      LIFE    OF    WILBEEFOECE     EICHMOND. 

When  little  more  than  two  years  old,  lie  fell  from  a 
window  on  the  pavement ;  and,  though  he  recoverd 
from  the  accident,  he  was  lame  ever  afterwards,  and  the 
natural  delicacy  of  his  constitution  was  probably 
increased  by  the  injury  he  received  at  that  time.  This 
circumstance  would  scarcely  have  deserved  a  serious 
mention,  if  it  did  not  seem  to  be  a  link  in  the  chain  of 
events  which  contributed  towards  the  formation  of  his 
character,  by  rendering  him  unfit  for  boyish  sports,  and 
compelling  him  to  seek  amusements  in  higher  occupa- 
tions. '^ 

His  resource  was  the  Museum,  and  the  experiments 
made  by  his  father's  philosophical  apparatus.  In  these 
he  took  a  principal  share,  and  resorted  to  them  when 
his  other  studies  did  not  require  his  attention.  Elec- 
tricity, pneumatics,  mineralogy,  chemistry,  and  music, 
in  which  he  was  no  mean  proficient,  occupied  his  leisure 
hours.  He  delighted  in  science  of  every  kind,  but 
especially  in  mathematics.  The  indubitable  verity  of  a 
demonstration  suited 'his  turn  of  mind,  and  had  God 
spared  his  life,  he  would  probably  have  distinguished 
himself  at  the  university.  Such  was  the  opinion  of  his 
tutor,  who  in  a  letter  of  condolence  to  his  father  after  his 
death,  speaks  of  him  as  a  boy  of  no  common  intelligence 
and  attainment. 

"I  marked  the  superior  endowments  of  his  mind  in 
the  first  hours  of  our  intercourse,  and  was  confirmed  in 
my  opinion  by  each  succeeding  year.  He  caught  an 
idea  quickly :  seemed  never  to  forget  it ;  for  his  me- 
mory, was  remarkably  strong  and  retentive,  and  he  made 
more  rapid  and  solid  attainments  than  any  other  boy 
placed  under  my  care.     At  a  very  early  period  he  read 

*  To  treat  little  things  with  contempt  is  no  mark  of  superior  intelligence. 
Their  potency  is  acknowledged  by  all  thoughtful  observers  of  the  course  of 
events,  whether  in  the  sparrow  that  falls,  or  the  single  hair  which  is  num- 
bered. 


171 

Euclid,  and  surprised  me  by  his  acute  and  sensil)le 
observations  on  the  cbaracter  of  pure  matbematics.  He 
appeared  deligbted  to  master  a  difficult  problem,  and 
before  be  was  twelve  years  of  age,  bad  exceeded  tbe 
advance  of  many  men  of  two  years  standing  at  tbe 
university. 

^'I  observed  an  equal  neatness  and  success  in  bis 
classical  exercises  and  translations.  But  I  was  still 
more  astonisbed  at  bis  discrimination  and  knowledge 
of  character.  Tbis  must  bave  arisen  from  bis  seeking 
tbe  conversation  of  bis  superiors.  He  bad  a  thinking 
mind,  and  a  habit  of  going  to  tbe  bottom  of  a  subject. 
He  was  not  without  his  prejudices,  and  sometimes  ex- 
pressed a  contempt  for  authority,  and  assumea  an  air 
of  confidence  in  bis  own  opinion,  which  needed  check- 
ing; though  I  never  found  him  obstinate,  or  averse  to 
re-consider  bis  decisions,  and  but  seldom  in  any  material 
error. 

"He  had  a  playful  temper,  and  Avitb  great  good 
humor  would  join  his  brothers  in  a  gambol ;  but  when 
alone,  he  was  more  like  a  little  man  than  a  child, —  be 
was,  in  short,  an  amusing  and  rational  companion." 

Tbe  writer  of  the  above  extract  left  Turvey  Avben 
his  pupil  was  about  twelve  years  of  age.  Wilberforce 
expressed  great  regret  at  bis  removal,  and  addressed 
bis  tutor  in  a  letter  equally  creditable  to  both  parties. 
I  lay  it  before  tbe  reader  to  show  the  affectionate  and 
grateful  temper  of  tbe  one,  and  to  bear  an  honourable 
testimony  to  the  conscientious  and  valuable  services  of 
tbe  other 

"  My  deae  Sir, 

"I  hope  you  will  not  suppose  that  I   am  insensible 

to  the  value  of  your  kind   and  affectionate  care  of  me. 

I  know  that  notbiog  wounds  more  deeply  than  neglect 

and  ingratitude,  and  I  hope  I  bave  never,  amidst  many 


172       LIFE     OF     WILBEEFOECE     EICIIMOND. 

other  errors,  fallen  into  this  offence.  If  I  have  appeared 
■ungrateful;  I  sincerely  ask  pardon.  I  fear  I  have  often 
behaved  disrespectfully,  and  ''done  many  things  which  I 
ought  not  to  have  done."  But  I  assure  you,  I  never 
gave  offence  without  pain  to  myself,  and  the  reproof  of 
my  own  conscience,  and  a  resolution  to  amend.  I  am 
certain  all  these  things  will  be  forgotten,  but  I  thought 
I  might  not  have  a  better  opportunity  of  telling  you 
how  deeply  I  regret  them.  I  shall  ever  entertain  the 
liveliest  emotions  of  gratitude  for  the  care  and  pains 
you  have  taken  in  superintending  and  directing  my 
studies;  and  though  distance  may  separate  us,  I  trust 
love  will  unite  us.  I  am  persuaded  you  will  never 
forget  me,  and  I  beg  you  will  receive  this  book  as  a 
tribute  of  affection,  and  a  memorial  of  lasting  friend- 
ship. My  obligations  to  you  are  many,  and  I  wish  you 
to  possess  something  as  a  token  of  my  sense  of  them. 
Perchance,  when  you  take  up  the  volume,  you  will 
recur  to  former  scenes  and  associations,  and  think  of 
Turvey  —  "  sed  Tempora  mutantur."  I  hope  my  letter 
will  not  displease  you:  if  I  have  not  "the  pen  of  a 
ready  writer,"  I  can  safely  say,  I  am  sincere  in  all  I 
have  said.  Be  assured  of  this,  that  however  far  distant 
you  may  be,  or  whatever  clime  you  may  dwell  in  — 
long  indeed  must  the  time  be  before  I  can  forget  so  good 
a  master  as  you  have  been  to  me.  I  cannot  bid  you 
farewell,  until  I  have  wished  you  health  and  happiness 
wherever  you  may  be.  I  shall  highly  value  and  prize 
your  correspondence. 

Ever  yours,  gratefully  and  affectionately 

WiLBEEFOECE." 

I  perceive  by  Mr.  E.'s  memoranda,  that  he  took  his 
little  boy  on  a  visit  to  London,  with  a  view  to  amuse 
and  instruct  him  by  the  curiosities  of  that  magnificent 
metropolis. 


PURSUITS.  173 

I  liaye  no  doubt  tlie  conversation  with  liis  child  on 
this  occasion  was  intended  for  insertion,  and  would 
probably  have  afforded  an  illustration  of  his  own  con- 
stant aim  at  improvement,  no  less  than  of  the  character 
and  progress  of  his  companion.  A  letter  to  "Wilberforce, 
on  a  subsequent  visit  to  town  by  himself,  may  in  a  small 
degree  supply  the  defect. 

"  My  dear  Master  Wilberforce, 

"As  you  asked  me  to  describe  to  you  some  of  the 
sights  which  have  met  my  eye  in  this  sightly  and 
sightful  city,  I  will  obey  you. 

"  The  Hobby,  or  Accelerator,  or  Adjutor.  The  neat- 
ness of  its  motions,  the  swiftness  of  its  speed,  the  elegance 
of  its  management  and  the  simplicity  of  its  construction, 
are  very  remarkable.  I  have  not  had  a  quiet  opportu- 
nity of  trying  it,  nor  do  I  think  the  lame  can  manage  it 
so  well  as  others.  On  Tuesday  next,  a  new  one  for 
ladies  only  is  to  be  exhibited.  All  the  town  is  wild  this 
year  after  hobbies,  as  they  were  last  year  for  kaleido- 
scopes. Old  men  and  children,  young  men  and  maidens, 
will  soon  be  whirling  and  twirling  like  tetotums.  Twelve 
places  of  exhibition  already  exist.  I  have  been  much 
amused  with  the  sight. 

''II.  The  Automaton  Chess-player.  Nothing  ever 
surprised  or  perplexed  me  so  much  as  this.  It  is  a 
masterpiece  of  mechanical  invention,  and  how  it  acts,  is 
as  yet  past  discovery.  It  has  been  shown  throughout 
Europe,  but  no  one  has  approached  to  detection.  It 
had  so  singular  an  effect  on  my  nerves,  that  I  wished 
for  permission  to  give  one  immense  laugh,  and  another 
immense  cry,  in  order  to  give  vent  to  my  exuberant 
spirits.  The  whole  company  sat  in  motionless  wonder 
for  an  hour,  during  which  one  of  them  played  against 
the  Automaton  Turk,  and  was  beaten,  though  a  first- 
rate   player;    which   vexed   him    not   a  little,    and   he 

15* 


174  LIFE     OF    WILBEEFORCE    RICHMOND. 

pinched  liis  nose,  and  bit  his  fingers  with  vexation. 
Our  silence  was  then  broken  by  a  man  of  wood,  dressed 
as  a  trumpeter,  and  who  played  like  a  trumpeter,  and 
full  well  he  trumpeted,  for  he  accompanied,  with  great 
precision,  his  master  and  maker,  who  played  a  piece  on 
the  piano-forte. 

"III.  The  Gothic  Hall  of  ancient  armoury.  This 
is  very  magnificent  —  cost  three  thousand  pounds,  and, 
alas  I  is  going  to  be  sold  by  auction,  like  Bullock's 
museum,  part  of  the  dissolution  of  which,  I  have  wit- 
nessed in  the  auction-room.  I  saw  an  antique  piece  of 
sculpture  put  up ;  one  pound,  said  a  gentleman  ;  two, 
said  another  ;  three  —  four  —  five  —  one  hundred,  said 
the  next ;  two  hundred  and  fifty,  said  an  old  lady ;  five 
hundred,  said  another  —  and  down  it  went. 

"ly,  The  Sostenente  Piano-forte.  Lovely,  sAveet, 
chaste,  bewitching  tones.  Yery  handsome  in  appear- 
ance— price  from  one  hundred  and  ten,  to  three  hundred 
guineas. 

''  Y.  Doctor  Thornton's  lecture  on  the  human  frame. 
A  fresh  subject  discussed  every  time.  About  thirty 
ladies  and  forty  gentlemen  present ;  very  useful  and 
instructive.  Fine  transparent  paintings  of  the  different 
parts  of  the  system  illustrated;  a  grand  collection  of 
human  bones,  and  of  all  kinds  of  animals;  he  exhi- 
bited the  laughing  gas,  and  it  made  us  all  laugh  won- 
derfully ;  none  could  conceive  the  effect  without  seeing 
it ;  several  of  the  company  tried  and  exhibited  the 
experiment.  He  produced,  by  another  gas,  a  globe  of 
fire,  quite,  indeed,  quite  as  bright  as  the  sun  at  noon- 
day. He  also  made,  as  H  —  would  say,  'an  enor- 
mous bang,'  with  soap-suds  and  hydrogen  gas.  The 
ladies  screamed  with  fright,  but  no  harm  was  done,  and 
the  laughing  gas  banished  all  alarms. 

"YI.  The  Panorama  of  Spitzbergen,  novel  and  sat- 
isfactory.     Icebergs,   ice-mountains,    snow,    seas,    ships. 


EXHIBITIONS.  ^  175 

seals,  sea-liorses,  laruses,  white  bears,  Arctic  dogs,  &c. 
in  abimdance ;  skies  terrific  —  the  whole  admirably 
executed,  and  affording  a  complete  lecture  on  the  natural 
history  of  the  Polar  districts. 

"YII.  The  Dandies.  Yery  numerous  and  vastly 
abominable.  I  will  not  describe  them^  for  verily  my  soul 
loatheth  them.  The  dandizettes,  the  more  sightly  objects 
of  the  two ;  but,  alas !  vanity  of  vanities,  all  is  vanity  I 

'^  YIIT.  The  Southwark  Bridge,  which  you  and  I  saw 
casting  at  Eotherham.  It  strides  most  nobly  across  the 
Thames,  and  is  a  grand  ornament  to  the  river. 
•  ''IX.  The  Persian  Ambassador.  A  fine  figure  in 
full  costume,  and  quite  answers  one's  idea  of  an  oriental 
Mahometan  grandee. 

''  X.  The  Fair  Circassian.  As  nobody  sees  her,  of 
course  I  do  not,  so  I  cannot  describe  her. 

''  I  have  gone  through  my  arduous  day,  and  have  been 
gratified  by  a  long  and  interesting  conversation  with 
L  —  W.  I  have  received  no  letters  from  home,  and  have, 
therefore,  no  answer  to  send. 

With  great  love  to  you  all, 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  E." 

This  playful  and  amusing  journal  of  London  curiosi- 
ties, contains  no  allusion  to  the  subject  which  lay  nearest 
to  his  heart.  But  Mr.  Eichmond  seldom  wrote  on  any 
occasion,  to  his  children,  without  reminding  them  of 
some  religious  truth,  or  connecting  whatever  was  curious 
in  art,  or  beautiful  and  grand  in  nature,  with  some  re- 
mark calculated  to  inspire  in  their  minds  sentiments  of 
solid  and  scriptural  piety.  The  following  letters  to 
Wilberforce  are  fair  specimens  of  his  u.sual  manner.  The 
first  of  these  was  written  when  he  was  yet  a  little  boy. 


176      life  of  wilbekforce  richmond. 

'■■  *  Dearest  little  boy, 

"As  I  was  journeying  near  York  last  Saturday, 
where  should  I  suddenly  find  myself  but  in  a  little 
village  called  WiTberforce,  as  my  driver,  and  tLo  way- 
post  informed  me.  'Dear  me,'  said  I  to  my  fellow- 
traveller,  'how  a  certain  little  lad  of  my  acquaintance 
would  be  surprised  and  pleased,  had  he  been  in  the 
chaise  this  moment.'  So  I  got  out  and  walked  up  and 
down  in  Wilberforce,  thinking  and  talking  about  that 
said  little  lad.  It  is  a  pretty  little  place.  As  I  loved 
the  name,  both  for  your  sake,  and  for  the  sake  of 
Henrietta's  god-father,  I  amused  myself  with  asking 
different  people  the  name  of  the  place,  and  everybody's 
answer  was  the  same.  I  asked  an  old  man,  '  What  is 
this  village  called ! '  '  'Wilberforce,  an'  please  your 
reverence,'  said  he,  and  so.  said  all  the  rest;  and  thus 
I  pleased  myself  with  making  a  great  many  people  speak 
your  name,  till  one  of  them  said,  '  I  canna  think  wot's 
the  matter  wi '  the  mon ;  he  made  us  aw  say  the  same 
thing.  Mayhop  the  man's  a  foo.'  Now  all  that  was 
the  matter  with  me,  was,  that  I  loved  you,  and  it 
quite  pleased  me  to  hear  your  name  when  I  so  little 
expected  it. 

''On  Thursday  last  I  saw  a  gentleman  and  a  lady 
mount  up  in  a  balloon,  a  mile  high  into  the  air,  and 
after  sailing  there  near  an  hour,  they  came  down  again 
quite  safe.  On  Saturday  I  went  to  see  the  finest  church 
in  all  England.  It  is  more  beautiful  than  all  the 
churches  I  ever  saw  put  together.  To-day  I  have  visited 
the  wonderful  dropping-well  of  Knaresborough,  which 
petrifies,  after  a  time,  whatever  it  touches.  To-morrow 
I  am  going  to  see  one  of  the  finest  ruins  in  the  kingdom. 
Fountains  Abbey.  Look  at  your  map,  it  is  near  Eipon 
in  Yorkshire.  This  day  I  received  a  most  beautiful 
letter  from  the  Eussian  Princess,  Sophia  Metcshersky,  of 
St.  Petersburgh.     I  think  I  never  had  so  pretty  a  letter. 


LETTEES    FROM    HIS    FATHEE.  177 

What  makes  it  so  pretty  ?  It  is  because  it  is  about  Jesus 
Christ.  Nothing  is  good,  or  right,  or  pretty  without  him. 
Se  only  is  altogether  lovely. 

"  I  hope  both  your  leg  and  your  lesson  go  on  well. 

If  they  dO;  you  must  thank  Mr.  C for  the  one,  and 

Mr.  Gr (to  whom  give  my  lovO;)  for  the  other,  and 

God  for  both. 

*'  Last  night;  at  ten  o'clock,  I  saw  the  Aurora  Bo- 
realis,  like  a  white  rainbow  stretching  all  over  the  sky. 
On  Monday  I  went  to  see  the  iron -founders  make 
cannon.  They  melted  the  iron  in  a  huge  hot  furnace  ; 
it  ran  out  along  the  ground  like  a  little  river  of  liquid 
fire  —  very  terrific  ! 

^'I  have  picked  up  many  curious  stones  for  the 
museum.  God  bless  you,  my  little  boy,  and  God  bless 
Henry.  Tell  him  I  love  him,  and  I  hope  he  loves  me. 
Kiss  all  your  brothers  and  sisters  for  me,  and  tell  them 
all  to  be  very  good.      Behave  well  to  dear  mamma  and 

Mr.  G ,  and  so  good  bye, 

From  your  loving  papa, 

L.  ElCHMOND." 

The  following  letter  is  of  later  date  : — 

**  London. 

"  *  *  *  Your  dear  mamma  has 

evidently  improved  in  health  by  her  visit  to  town, 
which  I  therefore  feel  it  right  to  lengthen,  that  by  free- 
dom for  a  time  from  domestic  labours  and  hourly 
anxieties,  she  may,  if  God  pleases,  be  the  better  enabled 
to  continue  her  numerous  attentions  to  you  and  her 
other  children  at  home.  You  know  her  great  value  to 
us  all,  and  the  day  to  which  you  allude  will  stand  as  a 
lasting  memorial  to  us  of  the  loving-kindness  of  God. 

"  On  Tuesday  last  I  went  to  Carlton  Palace,  with 
four  hundred  graduates  of  the  University  of  Cambridge, 


178       LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

to  present  an  address  of  congratulation  to  the  Prince 
Regent  on  the  marriage  of  his  daughter.  It  was  a  fine 
sight,  and  the  splendour  of  the  rooms  surprised  me. 
We  walked  through  St.  James's  street  and  Pall  Mall, 
two  and  two,  in  very  long  procession,  all  dressed  in  the 
various  university  robes.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester,  one 
archbishop,  and  nine  bishops,  went  first,  all  the  rest 
in  scarlet,  blue  and  gold,  blue  and  silver,  black  and 
gold,  black  gowns,  &c.  An  immense  collection  of  car- 
riages, and  people  on  foot,  filled  the  streets  to  see  the 
procession,  which  occupied  three  quarters  of  the  length 
of  Pall  Mall.  We  passed  through  seven  grand  and 
princely  chambers,  till  at  length  we  reached  the  last, 
in  which  the  Eegent,  seated  on  his  throne,  received  us. 
The  Duke  of  Gloucester  delivered  the  address,  to  which 
the  Prince  made  a  handsome  reply.  We  all  succes- 
sively made  our  obeisances,  and  after  remaining  a  short 
time  to  inspect  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  different 
state  apartments,  we  returned,  as  we  came,  to  a  cold 
collation  provided  for  the  members  of  the  university. 
The  Prince  was  surrounded  by  all  the  great  officers  of 
state,  and  the  whole  effect  was  imposing  and  superb. 
But  fine  and  entertaining  as  was  this  scene  of  earthly 
grandeur,  what  is  a  palace  compared  to  a  cottage,  if  the 
grace  of  God  is  in  one  and  not  in  the  other  ?  Earthly 
greatness  is  but  dust,  and  will  return  to  dust.  Grace 
alone  will  outlive  it ;  and  then  what  a  place  will 
heaven  be  to  those  who  are  made  kings  and  priests  for  ever. 

"  I  have  been  to  see  the  great  panorama  of  Waterloo. 
It  is  finely  painted,  but  a  very  terrible  exhibition.  I 
think  nothing  on  earth  so  dreadful  as  the  murder,  fury, 
confusion,  pain,  and  suffering  of  a  battle.  Even  the 
picture  fills  me  with  sadness  and  horror. 

"I  have  also  seen  a  panorama  of  Jerusalem,  very 
inferior  as  a  painting,  but  very  interesting  to  my  mind, 
as  pourtraying  the  place  where  Jesus  Christ  taught  and 


LETTERS    FROM    HIS    FATHER.  179 

sometimes  lived  in  tlie  days  of  his  flesh.  I  stood  upon 
the  mount  of  Olives,  and  looked  around  me  on  Mount 
Zion,  Gethsemane,  Calvary,  Bethany,  the  valley  of 
Jehoshaphat,  the  brook  Kedron,  the  pool  of  Bethesda, 
the  wilderness,  &c.  &c.  The  ideas  which  arose  in  my 
mind  affected  me  deeply.  I  was  moved  to  tendernesg 
and  tears,  as  I  looked  back  in  thought  upon  years  that 
are  past,  and  events  with  which  is  associated  all  that  is 
most  dear  to  the  Christian.  And  would  they  not,  my 
dear  boy,  have  touched  your  heart  ? 

'I  am  requested  to  preach  an  electrical  sermon  — 
that  is,  a  sermon  in  behalf  of  a  charitable  institution, 
called  the  Electrical  Dispensary,  for  administering  me- 
dical electricity  to  the  poor.  Some  of  the  patients 
appear  to  be  in  a  very  wretched  condition.  Out  of  7800 
persons,  3000  have  been  cured,  4000  greatly  benefitted, 
and  800  discharged  without  receiving  any  advantage 
from  this  kind  of  treatment.  I  have  been  thinking  that 
this  will  be  a  very  suitable  text,  "GrOD  is  light." 
Our  greatest  gratification  has  been  derived  from  attend- 
ing the  public  meetings  of  the  religious  and  benevolent 
institutions.  One,  and  sometimes  two,  are  held  in  a 
day.  It  is  an  unspeakable  delight  to  see  with  our  eyes, 
and  hear  with  our  ears,  what  God  is  so  manifestly  and 
so  mercifully  bringing  to  pass,  by  the  exertions  of  so 
many  valuable  societies 

''  Tell   G to    take   care  that   all  the   usual   and 

necessary  preparations  be  made  for  the  club  anniversary 
on  Whit-Friday.  We  hope  to  be  in  our  places  that 
day.  Et  jam  vale,  charissimie  puer ;  memor  esto  Dei 
omnipresentis,  et  patris  nunc  absentis,  et  matris  tuaa 
tenerrima3  pretiosissimse,  delectissim^e.  Te  ipsum  cum 
fratribus  sororibusque  in  votus  habemus.  Ora  pro  nobis, 
era.    Iterum  iterumque  vale. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.   KiCHMOND." 


180       LIFE    OF    WILBERFOECE    RICHMOND. 

Wilberforce  inherited  his  father's  taste  for  the  beauties 
of  nature.  In  Mr.  R.'s  memoranda  I  find  a  list  of  more 
than  thirty  places  of  natural  magnificence,  which  he 
visited  with  his  son,  and  reference  made  to  conversations 
and  mutual  delight,  in  a  survey  of  the  works  of  God. 
I  regret  that  my  guide  has'  only  left  me  traces  of  his 
footsteps  in  the  following  notes  : — 

''His  first  visit  to  Matlock,  at  four  years  old,  his 
ecstacy  and  remarks,  even  then,  on  natural  scenery. 

"  Yisited  &c.  &c.  &c. ;  his  admiration  and  delight 
while  he  stood  lost  in  thought,  and  mused  over  this 
exquisite  scenery. 

''  Minerals  of  the  Bible  —  his  acquaintance  with  their 
character — his  affectionate  disposition  —  his  conduct  and 
feelings  on  the  report  of  Kugent's  death." 

In  the  same  paper  he  notes : 

"  His  strict  and  honourable  conduct  —  exempt  from 
many  of  the  vices  common  to  his  age  —  his  confidential 
faithfulness  —  disposition  to  fastidiousness  —  mourned 
over  in  his  last  illness,"  &c. 

The  following  letter  to  a  companion  is  the  only  one 
of  this  character  I  shall  offer  the  reader.  It  will  appear 
how  completely  Mr.  K.  had  succeeded  in  transfusing 
his  own  spirit  and  principle  into  the  mind  of  his  beloved 
"Wilberforce. 

'  Dear 


'I  know  nothing  which  I  remember  with  more 
pleasure  than  the  hours  we  have  spent  together  in  do- 
mestic music.  I  shall  sever  regret  the  time  I  have 
given  to  music,  when  I  consider  its  tendency  to  attach 
us  to  our  delightful  homes.  We  have  indeed  passed 
many  happy  hours  together,  none  happier  than  those 
under  your  own  roof.  -J?-  -Js-  ^  I  have  been  delighted 
with  the  scenery  of  Scotland.  I  have  never  seen  any 
thing  which  has  given  me  such  an  idea  of  the  wisdom 


LETTER    TO     A    FRIEND.  '  181 

and  power  of  tlie  Creator.  I  do  indeed  admire  the 
rugged  grandeur  of  the  mountains,  and  the  wild  beauty 
of  the  heath,  but  I  still  admire  our  own  fertile  plains; 
*  *  -^  *  and  after  all,  no  country  can  be  so 
pleasant  to  us  as  that  to  which  we  have  been  endeared 
from  our  earliest  infancy.  Most  anxiously,  then,  do  I 
wish  once  more  to  enjoy  with  you  the  sight  of  our  na- 
tive village,  with  the  river  wandering  peacefully  through 
the  green  meadows,  and  to  revisit  the  scenes  of  our 
boyish  recollections.  *  -5^  *  *  I  -v^ras  greatly  pleased 
with  my  visit  to  London.  The  greatest  treat  was  the 
British  Museum.  The  minerals  are  so  exquisite,  so 
beyond  conception  beautiful  and  interesting.  There  is 
a  very  fine  Museum  in  Glasgow,  and  some  beautiful 
specimens  of  minerals  in  it.  It  has  just  received  the 
addition  of  a  live  rattle-snake,  which  nses  its  tail  in 
tremendous  style,  and  when  disturbed  is  ready  to  re- 
venge an  affront.  *  ^^  I  shall  probably  astonish  the 
Scotchmen  soon  with  the  peculiarity  and  beauty  of  my 
visage,  for  the  hair-dresser,  (Vho  cuts  and  curls  my 
hair  in  the  last  Parisian  fashion')  assures  me  that  in  a 
very  short  time,  I  must  have  my  head  shaved,  and  ex- 
change a  few  straggling  locks  for  a  wig.  My  pate  will 
look  like  a  lump  of  coxcomb  iron  pyrites." 

I  would  not  weary  my  readers  by  dwelling  on  the 
early  character  of  Wilberforce,  or  detain  him  from 
details  of  higher  interest :  the  particulars  I  have  men- 
tioned serve  to  show,  that  true  piety  is  perfectly  com- 
patible with  all  that  is  innocent  and  rational  in  our 
pursuits  and  recreations:  that  it  cannot  fairly  be 
ascribed  to  mere  dulness  or  morbid  sensibility,  and  that 
it  is  not  necessary  to  denounce  a  devout  and  heavenly 
spirit,  in  order  to  establish  a  claim  to  a  superiority  of 
sense  or  refinement. 

I  will  now  pursue  the  memoir  into  narrations  more 

16 


182        LIFE    OF    WILBEEFORCE    RICHMOND. 

immediatelj  connected  with  my  purpose;  tlie  illustra- 
tion of  Mr.  K.'s  peculiar  method  in  the  religious  educa- 
tion of  his  children,  and  the  success  which  attended  his 
unremitted  and  conscientious  discharge  of  the  duties  of 
a  Christian  parent. 

When  Wilberforce  was  a  little  child,  his  father,  aware 
of  the  vast  importance  of  early  associations,  accustomed 
him  to  habits  of  religion,  even  before  he  had  a  capacity 
to  understand  or  value  them.  He  consecrated  to  God 
his  whole  family  in  daily  prayers  :  the  infant  in  arms  was 
present  as  a  worshipper :  it  might  at  first  disturb  the 
order  of  the  family  devotion,  but  it  soon  learned  silence, 
and  seemed  pleased  with  the  group  before  it.  So  long 
as  it  could  not  speak,  he  spoke  for  it ;  he  would  hold  it 
in  his  arms,  saying,  "God  be  gracious  to  thee,  my  son." 
When  Wilberforce  could  scarcely  lisp  in  accents  of 
prayer  or  praise,  Mr.  E.  composed  the  following  little 
piece,  to  be  committed  to  memory,  and  repeated  to  his 
mamma  every  evening.  In  these  simple  lines,  nothing 
more  was  aimed  at  than  a  suitable  vehicle  of  instruction 
to  an  infant  mind.  It  breathes  the  same  devout,  tender, 
and  affectionate  spirit  which  pervades  Mr.  E.'s  other 
productions. 

WILBERFORCe's   evening  ADDRES3   TO   MAMMA. 

Mamma,  'tis  Jesus  loves  my  soul, 
And  makes  the  wounded  sinner  whole  j 
My  nature  is  by  sin  defiled. 
Yet  Jesus  loves  a  little  child. 

Iknowmy  temper  is  not  right, 
I'm  often  fretful,  scold,  and  fight : 
I  would  like  him  be  meek  and  mild, 
For  Jesus  loves  a  little  child. 

How  kind  is  Jesus !  oh,  how  good  1 
For  my  poor  soul  he  shed  his  blood} 
For  children's  sake  he  was  reviled, 
Yet  Jesus  loves  a  little  child. 


LIKES    ON    HIS    BIRTH- DAY.  183 

When  I  offend  you  by  my  tongue, 
And  say  and  do  what 's  very  wrong, 
Oh !  pray  mamma,  be  reconciled. 
For  Jesus  loves  your  little  child. 

Ho  teaches  me  to  shed  a  tear, 
Whene'er  I  grieve  a  friend  so  dear : 
But  though  I  am  so  thoughtless,  wild, 
Yet  Jesus  loves  the  little  child. 

To  me  may  Jesus  now  impart. 
Although  so  young,  a  gracious  heart ; 
Alas  ;  I  'm  oft  by  sin  defiled. 
Yet  Jesus  loves  the  little  child. 

And  I  love  him,  for  he  loves  me. 
And  hope  his  faithful  child  to  be ; 
The  Sinner's  friend  he's  justly  styled, 
And  Jesus  loves  your  little  child. 

The  following  letter  to  his  little  boy  on  his  birth- day 
is  of  the  same  character. 

It  was  early  this  morn,  as  I  waked  from  my  rest, 

An  unusual  emotion  sprung  up  in  my  breast, 

The  occasion  of  this  do  you  wish  to  be  told  ? 

'Tis  my  little  boy's  birth  day —  he 's  just  four  years  old. 

Foolish  father !  cries  one,  is  this  all  you  can  say, 
Is  this  to  disturb  all  your  feelinga  to-day  ? 
Yes  —  and  were  you  a  father,  you  would  not  feel  cold, 
On  your  little  boy's  birth-day,  when  just  four  years  old. 

Old  maidens  and  bach'Iors  who  no  children  have, 
Your  patience  I  ask,  for  your  pardon  I  crave, 
While  this  child  to  my  heart  I  so  warmly  enfold, 
On  the  little  boy's  birth-day,  who 's  just  four  years  old. 

Ye  mothers,  who  clasp  your  dear  babes  in  your  arms. 
And  watch  o'er  their  youth  with  a  thousand  alarms. 
Set  yours  down  for  one  instant,  my  child  to  behold, 
'Tis  the  little  boy  's  birth-day,  he  's  just  four  years  old. 


184       LIFE     OF    WILBEEFORCE   RICHMOND. 


Ye  that  doat  on  your  own  lads  can  feel  for  another's, 
And  bear  with  the  fondness  of  fathers  and  mothers, 
I  invite  your  attendance,  so  deem  it  not  bold, 
'Tis  the  little  boy's  birth-day,  he  's  just  four  years  old.     ■• 

He  can  prattle  and  talk,  with  a  sweet  little  smile, 
Which  my  heaviest  moments  will  often  beguile  ; 
So  I  value  him  more  than  ten  millions  twice  told : 
'Tis  my  little  boy's  birth-day,  he  's  just  four  years  old. 

Dear  wife,  on  whose  breast  the  dear  babe  hung  so  long, 
Shall  my  muse  on  this  day  forget  thee  in  her  song  ? 
Come  and  kiss  the  poor  lad,  and  rejoice  to  be  told, 
'Tis  your  little  boy's  birth-day,  he  's  just  four  years  old. 

My  sweet  boy  I  I  've  been  writing  these  verses  for  you, 
They  show  more  of  the  father  than  poet,  'tis  true  I 
Yet  in  spite  of  the  critics  papa  will  be  bold. 
Little  boy  'tis  your  birth- day,  you  're  just  four  years  old. 

May  the  biasing  of  God,  in  abundance  poured  down, 
Give  thee  grace  while  on  earth,  and  in  glory  a  crown ; 
As  thou  growest  in  years,  may  thy  virtues  unfold, 
'Tis  my  prayer  on  thy  birth-day,  when  just  four  years  old. 

The  incidents  of  cliildliood  are  seldom  interesting 
beyond  the  family  circle,  neither  can  mnch  reliance  be 
placed  on  early  appearances  of  piety,  untried  by  temp- 
tation. It  may  be  well  to  cherish  every  holy  emotion 
in  our  children ;  to  water  and  cultivate  the  tender 
plant  committed  to  our  care ;  but  until  influence  and 
impression  is  succeeded  by  principle  and  the  choice  of 
the  mind,  we  may  rejoice  in  the  buddings  of  divine 
life,  but  we  must  not  indulge  in  too  sanguine  expecta- 
tions. The  sceptical  tendencies  of  Wilberforce's  mind 
in  childhood,  are  by  no  means  of  rare  occurrence  at 
that  age ;  for  infidelity,  notwithstanding  its  arrogant 
pretensions  to  superiority,  is  the  vulgar  weed  that  grows 
in  every  soil,  and  withers  before  the  sunshine  of  clearer 
information ;  a  little  knowledge  may  help  to  an  objec- 


HIS    PREFERENCE    FOR    THE    MINISTRY.     185 

tion,  when  diligent  and  serious  inquiry  will  discover  its 
futility. 

There  is  one  note  in  Mr.  Eichmond's  papers,  which 
refers  to  Wilberforce's  conduct  and  feelings  on  receiving 
the  report  of  his  brother's  death.  It  is  probable  that 
he  shared  his  father's  anguish  in  that  mournful  event  — 
uncertain  as  they  both  were  of  Nugent's  spiritual  wel- 
fare, and  fearing  the  worst  from  all  that  was  then 
known  of  his  past  conduct.  They  had  heard  nothing 
of  those  satisfactory  testimonies  to  his  conversion,  which 
afterwards  cheered  and  relieved  their  minds.  A  concern 
for  the  everlasting  welfare  of  another,  is  no  small 
evidence  of  our  own  sincerity  in  the  pursuit  of  eternal 
life ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  '\yilberforce  had,  at  that 
time,  made  a  progress  in  true  religion,  greater  than  his 
extreme  reserve  warranted  his  friends  to  conclude. 
His  respect  for  piety,  the  deep  attention  with  which  he 
listened  to  instruction,  the  satisfaction*  which  he  dis- 
played in  communicating  to  others  what  he  seemed  to 
understand  himself,  and  his  uniform  good  conduct  and 
general  conformity  to  the  habits  of  a  religious  family, 
induced  his  father  to  hope  "  all  was  well  with  him ;  " 
though  he  was  too  deeply  impressed  with  the  infinite 
value  and  necessity  of  a  deep  and  real  conversion  to 
God,  to  rest  satisfied  with  any  thing  short  of  a  full  and 
explicit  declaration  on  the  part  of  his  child. 

Wilberforce  had  ever  expressed  a  decided  preference 
for  the  ministry,  which  rendered  it,  in  Mr.  E.'s  judg- 
ment, the  more  necessary  that  he  should  possess  a  piety 
the  most  decided  and  unequivocal.  To  become  by  pro- 
fession an  ambassador  for  God  to  a  guilty  world,  without 
credentials,  was  justly  regarded  by  him  as  a  profane 
intrusion  into  an  office  of  immense  responsibility ;  and 
he  has  been  heard  to  say,  that  '  he  would  rather  follow 

16* 


1    6        LIFE     OF    WILBERFORCE     RICHMOND. 

lii;^  son  to  the  grave,  than  see  liim  in  the  church  without 
being  fitted  for  such  a  sacred  office.'^ 

The  sentiments  of  both  will  be  best  expressed  in  the 
following  correspondence.  The  first  letter  was  written 
from  Stockport,  in  Lancashire,  when  Wilberforce  was 
eleven  years  old. 

"  Deae  Willy, 

"  Are  you  indeed  a  good  boy  during  my  absence  ? 
Shall  I  have  no  cause  for  heart-ache  on  my  return, 
when  I  ask  how  my  child  has  behaved?  How  he  has 
obeyed  his  mamma?  How  he  has  attended  to  his 
lessons  ?  How  he  has  submitted  to  his  sister's  instruc- 
tions?     How   he   has  conducted    himself  towards   Mr. 

Gr ?     How  he  has  adhered  to  truth  in  his  words  ? 

How  he  has  set  H  — ^  a  good  example  ?  Shall  I  be 
comforted  with  the  glad  tidings,  that  your  heart,  and 
your  conscience,  and  your  ways,  all  seem  to  partake  of 
a  happy  influence  ?  that  you  throw  away  all  indolence 
of  mind  or  body?  that  you  actively  pursue  -learning 
and  gain  it  ?  that  your  brother  improves  every  day 
through  the  effect  of  your  good  behaviour?  that  you 
seldom  or  ever  quarrel,  snap,  or  snarl  at  him  ?  that  you 
pray  to  God  to  forgive  your  sins  and  hourly  offences  ? 
Shall  I  be  told  that  you  have  prepared  a  happy  return 
home  for  papa,  by  his  hearing  all  this  good  of  you, 
when  he  comes  back  ?  Do  the  four  walls  of  your  little 
chamber  bear  witness  to  your  prayers  and  supplications 
for  yourself  and  me  ?  Do  the  sun's  rays,  as  they  early 
penetrate  your  window  in  the  morning,  find  you  active 

*  The  expression  of  Mr.  Richmond  is  a  strong  one,  though  in  perfect  unison 
with  the  sentiments  and  feelings  of  the  Editor.  Mr.  R.  must  not,  however,  be 
mistaken,  as  if  he  connected  his  child's  death  with  eternal  consequences. 
There  cannot  be  a  doubt  that  he  intended  to  say,  he  should  feel  the  death  of 
his  child  a  less  afflicting  dispensation  than  his  profaning  a  holy  ordinance,  and, 
by  ignorance  or  neglect,  involving  immortal  souls  in  everlasting  destruction. 


LETTER    FROM    HIS    FATHER.  187 

to  rise,  to  read,  to  labour,  and  to  grow  in  grace  ?  '■^'  '^ 
'X-  *  -:f  'jr  -x-  J  have  seen  some  beautiful  counties 
since  I  left  you.  Staffordshire  is  full  of  beauty.  Lich- 
field cathedral  too,  which,  though  much  smaller  than 
York  Minster,  is  a  very  fine  building;  I  attended 
divine  service  there,  the  organ  notes  rolled  sublimely 
along  the  vaulted  arches,  pillars,  and  roof.  The  exqui- 
sitely-painted windows  assimilated  to  the  sounds,  and 
rendered  the  effect  most  enchanting.  The  spires  are 
beautiful,  and  large  sums  have  been  laid  out  in  repairing 
and  restoring  them. 

"  One  evening  I  travelled  with  a  friend  in  a  gig  for 
three  hours,  amidst  the  never-ceasing  distant  lightning. 
The  whole  western  hemisphere  was  in  a  constant  blaze. 
The  flashes  alternated  from  one  point  of  the  horizon  to 
another,  distant  about  forty -five  degrees  from  each  other ; 
sometimes  the  flashes  were  silvery,  sometimes  yellow, 
then  orange  colour;  one  while  sheet-like,  and  again  so 
vivid,  that  we  seemed  to  have  a  peep  into  more  distant 
regions  of  space :  then  more  faint ;  now  and  then  we 
heard  slight  rumblings ;  then  all  was  silent  again.  At 
one  point  the  flashes  gleamed  on  the  ruins  of  a  distant 
castle,  which  appeared  all  on  fire;  a  dark  forest  lay 
behind,  and  it  formed  a  fine  contrast.  Sometimes  the 
forked  flashes  pursued  one  another  in  a  kind  of  playful 
progress ;  at  others  they  dashed  at  each  other  as  if  in 
terrible  combat ;  all  this  past  between  seven  and  ten  in 
the  evening. 

''But  what  are  these  lightnings,  compared  with  those 
which  made  Moses  quake  and  tremble  on  Mount  Sinai ; 
or  what  were  even  these,  contrasted  with  the  lightnings 
of  God's  wrath  against  sinners  ?  These  appearances  of 
nature  are  striking  emblems  of  divine  justice.  You 
have  need  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  Eepent !  for 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand.  The  wicked  and  all 
the  people  that  forget  God,  shall  be  turned  into  hell. 


188  LIFE    OF    WILBEEFORCE    RICHMOND. 

Dear  Willj,  if  you  forget  him,  what  will  be  your  por- 
tion? If  you  say  that  you  do  not  forget  him,  how  do 
you  prove  it  ? 

Video  meliora  proboque 
Deteriora  sequor, 

is  the  character  of  too  many  nominal  Christians; — I 
would  not  have  it  to  be  yours ;  an  enlightened  uncon- 
verted mind ;  with  eyes  and  tongue  to  approve  what  is 
right,  but  the  feet  walking  in  the  paths  of  evil.  A 
converted  heart  will  alone  enable  you  to  follow  his 
steps,  who  is,  '  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life.' 

"  I  sincerely  hope  that  you  are  beginning  to  be  truly 
sensible  of  the  evil  and  danger  of  sin,  and  the  necessity 
of  seeking  God  betimes.  Occasional  indispositions 
should  remind  you,  that  you  may  never  arrive  at  man's 
estate.  If  you  are  to  die  a  boy,  you  must  look  for  a 
boy's  religion,  a  boy's  knowledge,  a  boy's  faith,  a  boy's 
Saviour,  a  boy's  salvation ;  or  else  a  boy's  ignorance, 
a  boy's  obstinacy,  a  boy's  unbelief,  a  boy's  idolatry,  a 
boy's  destruction.  Kemember  all  this,  and  beware  of 
sin;  above  all,  dread  the  sinfulness  of  an  estranged 
heart.  Pray  for  a  new  one  ;  pray  for  grace  and  pardon, 
and  a  soul  conformed  to  the  image  of  Christ ;  pray  for 
wisdom,  for  the  destruction  of  pride,  vain  conceit,  and 
self-sufSciency.  Be  not  slothful  in  business,  but  fervent 
in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord.  Friends  here  inquire  after 
you,  in  the  full  hope  that  you  are  going  on  well, 
creditably,  obediently,  industriously,  humbly  and  Chris- 
tianly.     Love  to  all,  from 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  E." 

What  reply  was  made  by  Wilberforce  to  this  letter 
does  not  appear :  his  repugnance  to  a  free  and  unre- 


LETTER    TO    HIS    FATnER.  l89 

served  communication  on  the  subject  of  personal  religion 
seems  not  to  have  been  overcome  till  nearly  four  years 
after,  though  his  anxious  father  longed  to  elicit  some- 
thing on  this  point  more  satisfactory  than  could  be 
collected  from  a  general  acquiescence  in  the  opinions 
and  habits  of  the  family.  A  letter  written  by  Wilber- 
force  to  his  father  in  1821,  discloses  a  mind  under  the 
influence  of  more  distinct  views,  and  stronger  feelings, 
breaking  through  the  fetters  of  natural  reserve. 

"My  dear  Father, 
"You  will  believe  me,  when  I  say,  that  I  entirely 
and  most  thoroughly  agree  with  you,  'that  it  is  time 
we  should  communicate  frequently,  intimately,  and 
confidentially.'  I  feel  very  thankful  that  you  have 
so  plainly  declared  your  thoughts  and  determinations 
concerning  me ;  I  know  my  inability  to  answer  you  in 
the  way  you  wish,  but  I  rejoice  in  an  opportunity  of 
telling  you  what  my  thoughts  have  been  and  still  are,  in 
respect  of  the  most  important  subject  of  your  inquiry. 
I  deeply  regret  that  a  false  shame  has  hitherto  deterred 
me  from  an  open  avowal  of  my  sentiments  and  feelings. 
I  will  honestly  confess  to  you,  that  I  have  never 
seriously  considered  the  subject  of  the  ministry  till 
within  the  last  few  months.  Brought  up  from  my 
infancy,  with  the  expectation  of  becoming  a  clergyman, 
and  accustomed  as  I  have  been  to  think  and  speak  of 
it  as  my  future  profession,  I  have  been  little  aware  of 
the  difficulty,  and  have  not  sufficiently  considered  the 
responsibility  of  the  office,  which  I  hoped  would  one  day 
be  mine.  You  know  how  much  this  prospect  has 
pleased  me  all  through  my  childhood.  I  have  had 
many  fears  and  alarms  about  my  sinful  state,  but  they 
soon  faded  away.  The  impression  has  never  been  per- 
manent till  dear  little  Atherton  died.  At  that  time  it' 
Dleased  God  to  awaken   in  me  a  deeper  sense  of  my 


190       LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

dangerous  condition,  and  I  prayed  very  earnestly  tliat 
God  would  pardon  my  sins  for  Christ  Jesus'  sake,  and 
that  the  Holy  Spirit  would  renew  my  heart.  Then  I 
fell  into  another  error;  for  I  began  to  trust  myself 
instead  of  the  Saviour.  I  thought  I  was  now  proof 
against  temptation,  and  had  the  presumption  to  suppose 
myself  fit  for  the  ministry.  But  I  was  awfully  deceived. 
There  arose  soon  after  in  my  mind  many  doubts  of  the 
authenticity  of  the  Scriptures.  Wherever  I  went,  or 
whatever  I  was  doing,  these  doubts  haunted  me.  I 
found  that  I  could  not,  I  dared  not  pray.  At  first  I 
repulsed  these  suggestions  with  horror,  but  they 
gradually  laid  so  fast  hold  of  me,  that  they  destroyed 
all  my  peace.  When  engaged  in  my  studies,  that  which 
was  often  ascribed  to  idleness,  was  really  occasioned  by 
the  state  of  my  mind,  which  was  so  perplexed  that  I 
could  not  attend. to  other  things ;  even  my  pleasures  were 
damped  by  uneasiness.  I  have  no  doubt  that  if  I  had 
been  in  some  situations,  I  should  have  become  a  deter- 
mined infidel.  I  tremble,  dear  papa,  while  I  write 
thus ;  and  when  I  look  back  and  think  of  my  situation 
at  that  time,  I  cannot  feel  sufficiently  thankful  that  my 
life  was  spared,  and  that  I  was  not  cut  off  from  God  for 
ever.  I  found  that  I  had  trusted  in  my  own  strength, 
that  I  had  neglected  prayer,  and  while  I  continued  in 
that  neglect,  I  could  not  reasonably  expect  the  removal 
of  these  distressing  searchings  of  heart.  It  was  with 
some  difficulty  I  could  bring  myself  on  my  knees  again. 
I  was  fearful  that"  God  would  not  hear  me.  But  I  read 
the  Bible  for  encouragement,  and  I  found  it  there.  By 
continual  prayer  I  was  directed  to  the  means  of  relief, 
and  I  have  not  been  troubled  with  one  more  doubt  since 
that  time.  Indeed,  I  cailnot  but  believe  that  the  death 
of  our  poor  little  Atherton  was  blest  to  me.  It  affected 
me  more  than  any  conversation  or  other  event,  and  more 
than  any  one  knew ;  I  have  never  lost  the  impression. 


LETTER    TO    HIS    FATHEE.  191 

"  Yet  I  cannot  feel  comfortable  in  becoming  a  minister 
of  Christ  in  my  present  state  of  mind.  My  conscience 
would  be  nneasy,  if  I  presumed  to  fill  an  office,  whose 
functions  are  so  far  above  my  ability  or  piety ;  but  I 
earnestly  pray  that  Grod  may  give  me  such  a  measure  of 
his  gracC;  as  may  in  some  degree  fit  me  to  become  an 
unworthy,  but  true  servant  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

'  Having  now  freely  and  confidentially  told  you  what 
has  been  passing  in  my  mind,  I  lie  in  your  hands,  and 
trust  you  will  pardon  any  error  of  expression  or  sentiment 
which  may  appear  in  my  letter,  and  that  you  will  correct 
whatever  you  see  wrong  in  me.  Eeceive,  my  dear  papa, 
my  confidence,  as  the  strongest  mark  of  affection  and 
gratitude  which  can  be  given  by  your  affectionate,  but 
unworthy  son, 

WiLBEEFORCE." 

I  have  no  documents  by  which  to  trace  the  progress 
of  this  interesting  boy  during  an  interval  of  nearly  two 
years.  Able  and  pious  tutors  attended  to  his  improve- 
ment in  literature,  and  by  their  conversation  and 
example,  aided  his  progress  in  religion ;  which,  though 
still  of  a  reserved  character,  was  doubtless  sincere  and 
increasing. 

In  1823,  Mr.  Richmond  was  in  Glasgow,  from  whence 
he  wrote  to  his  son  as  follows  : 

"My  veey  deae  Wilbeefoece, 
"I   am  very   glad   that    Hartwell   Home  proves   so 
acceptable   to   you.  •»  -x-  *  * 

I  cannot  express  my  anxieties  on  your  account,  both 
as  they  respect  your  Christian  principles,  and  your 
future  prospects  as  connected  with  the  ministry.  We 
must  indeed  become  still  more  communicative  and 
confidential,  or  the  burden  of  my  heart  will  become 
heavier   than   I  can   bear.      It  has  Ions:  been  the  first 


192       LIFE    OF    WILIiEEFOECE    E I  C  H  M  O  N  D. 

wish  of  my  mind,  that  you  should  be  a  minister  of  the 
gospel;  but  only,  and  entirely,  and  unequivocally, 
without  partiality  and  without  hypocrisy  as  your 
personal  character,  experience,  and  determination, 
might  be  formed  on  a  serious,  affectionate,  conscientious, 
and  prayerful  foundation.  I  want  to  see  my  beloved  boy 
first  a  true  Christian,  and  then  a  true  minister.  Oh  I 
may  God  hear  my  prayers  on  this  subject.  For  this 
I  cry  day  and  night, —  and  unworthy  as  I  am  of  such  a 
blessing,  yet  I  will  trust  him  for  it,  and  I  would  wrestle 
like  Jacob  until  I  attain  it.  But  you  must  wrestle  too, 
yea,  and  with  all  your  heart,  all  your  mind,  all  your 
soul,  and  all  your  strength.  You  must  study  your  own 
heart :  you  should  not  only  study  the  scriptures,  but 
keep  in  reading  some  searching  experimental  book  as  a 
bosom  companion.  A  love'  of  such  reading, —  at  least 
no  alienation  from  it,  proves  a  useful  test  of  character. 
*  '^"  *  *  I   am   glad  to 

hear  you  give  yourself  more  regularly  an(^  resolutely  to 
study.  I  have  often  had  fears  of  indolence  and  inac- 
tivity, those  banes  of  all  progress,  proficiency,  and 
hope.  I  shall  indeed  rejoice  to  find  that  the  bonds  are 
broken.  ^-  ^-  ^-  *  * 

Theology  itself,  important  as  are  its  themes  and  com- 
munications, sinks  into  mere  science  or  literary 
attainments,  unless  founded  upon,  and  accompanied  by 
a  devotional  and  affectionate  application  of  its  principles 
to  the  soul. 

"  It  is  much  easier  to  be  a  divine  than  a  Christian, — 
an  ecclesiastic,  than  a  pastor.  You  may  be  little  aware 
how  much  more  truth  and  wisdom  dwell  in  some 
cottages  and  hearts  at  Turvey,  than  in  many  a  house, 
and  in  many  a  mind,  in  which  superior  advantages 
seem  to  prevail,  and  even  where  real  religion  is  known 
and  respected.  I  long  for  the  day  when  you  and  I  may 
not  only  comfortably  and  confidently  converse  on  these 


LETTERS     FROM    II  IS    FATHER.  193 

subjects,  on  things  whicli  belong  to  our  everlasting 
peace,  our  prospects  in  time  and  eternity  ;  but  when 
you  may  take  such  a  share  in  my  private  parochial 
intercourse  with  the  parishoners,  as  may  leave  no 
doubt  of  your  being  one  with  us.  But  then  it  must  be 
previously  manifest  that  you  are  coiisistent  and  in 
earnest,  that  you  have  not  only  put  away  childish 
follies  and  faults,  but  are  living,  and  not  ashamed  to 
live,  under  the  influence  of  higher  principles.  I  want 
you  to  aid  me  effectually  in  the  instruction  of  poor 
children,  in  visiting  the  sick,  in  conversing  with  the 
poor.  If  you  are  to  be  a  minister,  you  should  now 
commence  your  seven  years'  apprenticeship  to  the  holy 
oflS.ce.  But  then,  your  conduct  must  be  uniform,  simple, 
consistent.  The  reproach  of  the  cross  must  in  some 
measure  be  encountered,  and  the  love  of  Christ  in  the 
heart  put  to  some  satisfactory  test.  Think  of  these 
things,  and  write  to  me  about  them.  Let  me  have 
the  comfort  of  knowing  more  of  your  mind.  Our  pre- 
sent interval  of  separation  may  be  a  time  of  much 
salutary  communication.  I  would  say,  in  the  language 
of  Solomon,  "  My  son,  give  me  thy  heart ;  "  but  first 
give  it  to  God.  You  are  arrived  at  an  age  when  many 
dangerous  temptations  will  assail  you,  and  you  will  be 
put  to  the  proof  whether,  your  heart  is  right  with  God ;' 
and  if  you  are  thrown  upon  the  world  and  its  seduc- 
tions, more  than,  happily,  has  hitherto  been  needed  or 
sought,  you  will  find  indeed  that  it  lieth  in  wickedness, 
multiplied,  subtle,  and  appalling.  May  you,  my  dear 
son,  be  preserved  in  your  youth,  and  when  old,  never 
wander  from  the  way  in  which  you  have  been  trained  1 
"You  must,  in  a  very  especial  manner,  consider  the 
daily  influence  of  your  temper,  conduct  and  conversa- 
tion upon  your  brothers  and  sisters.  An  elder  brother 
is  usually  the  blessing  or  the  curse  of  a  household. 
Yuu  never  knew,  or  will  know,  what  I  suffered  on  poor 

17 


194        LIFE    OF    WILBEEFORCE    RICHMOND. 

Nugent's  account;  but  God  has,  I  trust,  in  mercy 
over-ruled  for  eventual  good,  what  seemed  to  threaten 
nought  but  evil.  May  the  course  of  your  youth  be 
very  different,  and  may  you  contribute  to  heal  the 
remains  of  former  wounds  inflicted  on  my  parental 
feelings. 

"  "Write  soon ;  for  letters  are  long  in  coming  to  me. 
Give  a  very  affectionate  message  to  my  much-loved 
parishoners,  and  assure  them  how  closely  I  bear  them 
on  my  heart's  remembrance.  Love  to  all.  God  bless 
you,  my  dear  children ;  yes,  God  bless  you  all !  There 
is  a  certain  store  of  love  in  this  house,  from  which  is 
drawn  a  respectable  portion  to  be  conveyed  to  Turvey. 
Take  it,  and  use  it  well.  Assemble  the  brotherhood  and 
sisterhood,  and  kiss  them  in  their  succession,  telling 
them  it  is  a  proxy  from  one  who  loves  them  well,  and 
that  one  is  their  affectionate  father, 

Legh  Kichmond." 

The  following  extract,  which  connects  this  corre- 
spondence, was  written  by  Wilberforce  to  his  father 
in  the  same  year,  and  during  the  same  journey  to 
Scotland. 

"  *  *  *  *  I  have  thought  and 

considered  a  great  deal  on  the  contents  of  your  last 
letter;  I  read  it,  I  assure  you,  with  many  tears,  but 
they  were  tears  of  love  to  you,  and  of  sorrow  that  I  fall 
so  far  short  of  your  wishes  and  reasonable  expectations. 
You  say  you  wish  me  first  to  be  a  true  Christian,  and 
then  a  true  minister;  believe  me,  when  I  say,  that 
though  it  is  the  first,  the  nearest,  and  the  dearest  wish 
of  my  heart,  I  would  not  have  a  desire,  not  the  slightest 
desire,  of  entering  the  church  in  an  unfit  state  of  mind. 
I  would  rather  engage  in  the  meanest  occupation  of 
life  than  be  a  disgrace  to  the  religion  of  Christ,  by 
entering  into  the  holy  profession,  while  I  am  unfit  for 


LETTERS    FROM    HIS    FATHER.  195 

it.  When  I  look  at  tlie  apostles  of  old,  and  mark  how 
full  they  were  of  love  to  Christ  and  their  fellow-crea- 
tures; or  when  I  look  to  good  men  of  our  own  day, 
who  tread  in  their  steps,  I  shrink  from  assuming  a 
profession  for  which  I  cannot  but  know  myself  most 
unworthy.  I  am  conscious  of  being  a  great  sinner,  and 
I  seem  to  myself  utterly  incompetent  to  be  more  than  a 
humble  disciple  in  the  church  of  God.  But  I  know 
that  the  blood  of  Jesus  Christ  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  and 
that  his  Spirit  can  enable  me,  sinful  as  I  am,  to  love  and 
serve  him.  I  have  much  to  be  thankful  for.  I  ought  to 
be  thankful  that  I  am  permitted  to  think  about  these 
things.  At  times  I  have  felt  very  happy  in  prayer  and 
reading  the  Scriptures.  My  joy  has  been  such,  that  I 
seemed  ready  not  only  to  love  God,  but  even  to  give  up 
all  the  world  for  his  sake;  then  again  the  cares  and 
pleasures  of  life  have  laid  hold  of  me,  and  sunk  me  into 
sorrow. 

''  Pray  for  me,  my  dear  father,  that  my  wavering  mind 
may  be  fixed  in  the  paths  of  truth,  and  may  choose  that 
better  part,  which,  when  once  obtained,  shall  never  be 
taken  away  from  me;  and  may  God  direct  me  to  that 
profession  of  life,  in  which  I  may  most  promote  his  glory, 
and  my  own  good,  and  that  of  my  fellow-creatures." 

The  following  year  Wilberforce  was  attacked  with  a 
dangerous  illness  which  terminated  in  his  death. 

Mr.  Eichmond  did  not,  on  this  occasion,  imitate  the 
worldly  prudence  of  some  persons  who  labour  to  con- 
ceal from  the  patient  the  danger  of  their  state,  and  with 
a  mistaken  kindness  prohibit  the  introduction  of  reli- 
gious subjects,  from  fear  of  aggravating  the  disorder. 
With  a  heart  alive  to  the  eternal  interests  of  his  child, 
he  addressed  to  him  the  following  letters.  May  the 
perusal  of  them  afford  an  instructive  lesson  to  all  who 
are  placed  under  similar  circumstances,  and  teach  them 


196        LIFE    OF    WILBKRFOKCE    RICHMOND. 

never  to  forget  that  "  one  thing  is  needful "  for  others, 
as  well  as  for  themselves ;  and  that  the  wisdom  which 
would  endeavour  to  save  the  perishing  body  at  the  risk 
of  the  immortal  soul,  is  an  act  of  treachery  the  more 
criminal,  in  proportion  as  its  consequences  are  irre- 
parable and  eternal ! 

"  Turvey,  June  12th,  1824. 
''My  dear  Boy, 
'  I  have,  as  I  mentioned  to  you  the  other  day,  for 
some  time  wished  to  press  upon  your  attention  the 
important  subject  of  the  Lord's  Supper ;  and,  as  in  the 
case  of  each  of  your  sisters,  I  found  that  an  epistolary 
correspondence  afforded  a  liberty  and  facility  of  com- 
munication in  the  first  instance.  I  trust  you  will  not 
object  to  adopting  a  similar  mode.  A  time  of  relaxation 
from  your  studies,  and  of  indisposition,  may  afford  you 
a  good  opportunity  for  such  a  purpose.  It  will  be 
exceedingly  gratifying  to  me  to  receive  some  simple, 
faithful  account  of  your  state  of  mind,  views,  feelings, 
and  desires  in  connection  with  the  privilege  and  duty  of 
commemorating  the  dying  love  of  Christ  to  sinners.  I 
wish  to  receive  you  at  the  table  of  our  Lord,  both  as 
your  affectionate  father  in  the  flesh,  and  your  still  hap- 
pier father  in  the  Spirit,  with  principles  enlightened, 
and  heart  warmed  with  a  Saviour's  mercies.  Approach 
me  thus,  my  beloved  son,  and  write  to  me  with  a  free, 
confidential  heart.  I  feel  the  most  lively  interest  in 
your  spiritual  welfare,  far  beyond  what  my  ordinary 
manner  may  betray.  You  are  arrived  at  an  age,  when 
I  wish  you  to  become  my  bosom  friend  and  companion 
in  all  things,  but  above  all,  in  those  things  which  belong 
to  your  everlasting  peace.  I  have  sometimes  feared 
that  other  subjects  have  somewhat  monopolized  your 
thoughts ;  and  yet  I  have  the  firmest  hope  that  your 
mind  is  truly  sensible  of  the  value  and  importance  of 


LETTERS    FROM    HIS    FATHER,  197 

divine  things.  I  trust  you  are  constant  in  prayer,  and 
that  your  affections  are  unfeignedly  directed  towards 
divine  truth.  I  cannot  express  to  you  how  much  this 
belief  comforts  and  strengthens  my  mind,  It  is  allied 
to  every  feeling  and  wish  which  I  have  so  long  and  so 
anxiously  cherished,  in  regard  to  your  future  character 
as  a  minister  of  the  gospel  of  Christ.  None  but  God 
knows  how  intense  my  solicitude  has  been  upon  that 
point.  It  is  high  time  that  you  should,  by  the  open  act 
of  communion,  devote  yourself  to  the  Eedeemer's  ser- 
vice, and  look  upon  it  as  a  pledge  for  your  inward 
principles,  and  'outward  practice.  You  should  atten- 
tively examine  the  sacramental  service  in  the  Liturgy, 
and  always  have  a  book  of  experimental  and  devotional 
character  more  or  less  in  private  reading.  It  must  ever 
be  kept  in  remembrance,  that  the  mere  literary  dis- 
cussional  study  of  theology,  however  valuable  and 
needful,  is  a  distinct  thing  from  the  affectionate  work 
of  the  heart,  in  the  exercises  of  the  conscience  in  the 
soul.  I  am  earnest  that  my  dear  child  should  enjoy  all 
the  privileges  of  the  church  of  Christ,  and  adorn  them. 
Search  for  the  evidences  of  a  renewed  heart  daily ;  come 
as  a  lost,  undone  sinner,  and  may  you  taste  that  the 
Lord  is  gracious.  Beware  of  the  world's  temptations 
and  levities.  "We  should  all  feel  that  time  is  short,  and 
eternity  at  hand,  and  be  prepared  accordingly.  The 
regular  partaking  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  when  rightly 
viewed,  has  a  tendency  to  cherish  the  best  affections  of 
the  soul,  and  to  preserve  both  young  and  old  from  the 
dangerous  delusions  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  Satan. 
Let  the  communication  of  these  thoughts  excite  you  to 
self-examination,  meditation  and  prayer.  My  love  and 
regard  for  you  are  great  indeed  ;  my  own  heart  is  wrapt 
up  in  the  prosperity  of  yours.  May  all  your  studies 
be  sanctified  to  the  glory  of  God.     May  you  noiu  enjoy 

a  portion  of  these  pleasures,   which  are  at  God's  right 

17* 


198       LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

hand  for  evermore. — 'The  blood  of  Christ  cleanseth 
from  all  sin.'  How  delightful  a  thought  for  you  and 
for 

Your  affectionate  father, 

Legh  Eichmond." 

''TuTvey,  June  22nd,  1824. 
''  My  very  dear  Child, 
"I  present  you  with  this  book,  for  the  express  pur- 
pose of  your  keeping  a  journal  and  diary,  not  merely 
of  passing  events  as  they  may  occur,  but  of  the  thoughts 
of  youB  heart  upon  divine  things.  I  tjarnestly  entreat 
you  to  do  this :  I  recommend  it  from  long  experience 
as  a  most  beneficial  exercise.  It  is  perfectly  secret  to 
yourself  and  God.  No  one  can  ever  see  it  without  your 
own  knowledge  and  consent.  But  such  records  have 
been  so  useful,  so  consolatory,  and  so  improving  that  I 
may  make  it  my  paternal  entreaty,  that  you  will  com- 
ply with  this  request.  Suspended  in  uncertainty  with 
regard  to  your  health  and  strength,  my  soul  is  most 
anxious  for  your  spiritual  good.  Trifle  not,  delay  not 
in  this  matter.  Press  forward  to  the  mark  and  prize  erf 
your  high  calling.  Eeview  the  past  thoughts  of  your 
heart  —  examine  the  present  —  anticipate  the  future. 
You  are  in  God's  hands.  I  trust  the  everlasting  arms 
are  underneath  you.  Let  me  entreat  you  to  open  your 
mind  also  to  me,  in  frequent  correspondence.  I  cannot 
express  my  solicitude  for  your  spiritual  welfare.  You 
know  all  the  principles  by  which  a  sinner  may  be 
saved;  you  have  known  them  from  your  infancy  ;  may 
they  be  the  ornament  of  your  youth !  May  you  rest  short 
of  nothing  but  a  well-grounded  conviction  of  your  per- 
sonal interest  in  Christ !  There  is  a  rich  provision  in 
him  for  every  possible  difficulty  and  deficiency  which 
can  present  itself  to  your  thoughts.  Oh,  how  does  my 
heart  burn  to  see  you,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  a  true 


LETTER    TO    HIS    FATHER.  199 

Christian.  In  a  former  note  I  invited  you  to  tlie 
Lord's  table.  Happy,  tlirice  happy  shall  I  be  to  see 
yon  there,  added  to  the  number  of  the  Lord's  flock. 

"  Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  received  yours.  I 
thank  you  from  my  heart.  G-o  on,  as  your  strength 
and  opportunities  will  allow,  by  a  little  at  a  time ;  but 
give  me  as  much  of  your  thoughts  and  feelings  as  you 
can.  Tell  me  of  your  past  years,  and  early  leadings 
and  convictions;  tell  me  more  of  those  things  which 
you  have  named  in  former  letters.  You  cannot  oblige 
me  more  than  by  giving  me  the  history  of  your  heart  at 
various  periods.  I  have  known  too  little  of  you,  my 
dear  child.  Let  that  ignorance  on  my  part  cease.  I 
have  loved  you  from  your  birth,  and  watched  over  you 
till  now,  with  the  tenderest  affection :  but  I  feel  my  own 
deficiency  in  not  communing  more  with  you  on  the  state 
of  your  mind  in  the  sight  of  God.  Comfort  me  now  by 
frequent  intercourse  on  these  matters.  It  is  the  very 
return  of  all  others  which  I  desire,  for  all  the  past 
anxieties  of  a  father  and  a  minister.  May  this  journey 
be  blessed  to  you  both  in  soul  and  body.  I  trust  soon, 
with  God's  blessing,  to  see  you  again.  In  the  meantime, 
I  commend  you  to  Him,  who  has  all  events  in  his  hands, 
whose  consolations  are  neither  few  nor  small,  who  gave 
his  Son  to  die  for  your  sins,  and  whose  compassions  fail 
not.  Be  much  in  prayer  and  self-examination.  The 
God  of  the  waves  shall  protect  and  guard  you :  the  God 
of  the  land  shall  comfort  you.  But  seek  him  aright : 
trifle  not  with  the  great  concern.  How  joyfully  shall  I 
welcome  you  at  the  Lord's  table,  if  God  so  will.  Adieu 
for  the  present,  my  child,  mv  friend,  and,  in  Christ,  my 
brother. 

Legii  Eichmokd." 

The  journey  to  Scotland,  above  alluded  to,  was  recom- 
mended with  a  view  of  consulting?  Dr.  Stewart,  whose 


200        LIFE    OF    WILBRRFOKCE    RICHMOND. 

method  of  treating  pulmonary  diseases  was  supposed  to 
have  succeeded  in  many  Instances. 

The  following  letter  was   written  immediately  after 
Wilberforce's  arrival  in  Scotland  :  — 

"  Turvey,  June  30,  1824. 
''  My  ever  dear  Son, 
"I  thank  you  for  your  letter,  and  am  glad  to  hear 
again  from  Mr.  Marshall  that  you  have  borne  your 
travels  so  far  well.  You  are  never  out  of  my  thoughts, 
and  I  follow  you  in  imagination  through  every  scene  of 
your  occupation.  But  there  is  an  eye  that  beholds  and 
watches  over  you,  in  a  way  that  I  cannot  do.  To  him 
I  confide  and  commend  you,  for  sickness  and  health,  for 
time  and  eternity.  What  a  word,  what  a  thought,  is 
eternity  I  What  prospects  does  it  set  before  us  I  What 
inconceivable  mysteries  are  involved  in  it !  How  does 
it  make  the  things  of  time  dwindle  into  insignificance  I 
But  what  questions  of  unspeakable  import  are  involved 
in  it !  Sin,  a  corrupt  nature,  a  broken  law,  an  offecded 
God,  eternal  punishment ;  conscience,  guilt,  regeneration, 
salvation  by  Christ,  faith,  hope,  love,  free  grace,  unde- 
served mercy,  justification,  effectual  calling,  adoption 
into  God's  family,  pardon  of  sin,  consolation  in  Christ, 
heaven  and  glory.  These,  and  a  thousand  accompani- 
ments, are  all  connected  with  the  idea  and  the  reality 
of  eternity.  What  a  sad  proof  of  the  depravity  of  our 
heart  is  our  indifference  towards  thinking,  and  our 
backwardness  towards  speaking  upon  things  which  be- 
long to  our  everlasting  peace ;  and  which,  nevertheless, 
if  neglected,  involve  our  eternal  ruin.  We  need  warn- 
ings, and  the  Lord  sends  them  in  many  ways.  Sickness, 
pain,  bereavements,  losses,  disappointments,  all  bring 
their  message  with  them.  The  great  question  between 
our  souls  and  God  is  not  whether  we  admit  the  truths 
of  the  Scripture  into  our  understandings,  but  whether 


LETTEK    TO    HIS    FATHEK.  201 

they  are  so  applied  to  our  hearts  as  to  have  wrought  a 
change,  and  hecome  vital  princijjles  of  faith  and  practice. 
Nothing  short  of  this  can  afford  evidence  of  a  saved  and 
safe  condition.  There  is  an  action  of  the  sonl  by  which 
it  rests  "upon  Christ,  and  all  that  he  has  done,  with  full 
confidence;  and  this  produces  peace  in  the  conscience. 
The  more  we  see  of  ourselves,  the  more  we  see  our  sin ; 
and  the  more  we  see  our  sin,  the  more  we  fly  to  the 
death  and  righteousness  of  Christ,  for  pardon,  deliver- 
ance, and  hope.  "We  behold  not  only  his  sufiiciency,  but 
his  willingness  to  save  the  chief  of  sinners.  For  this  we 
love  him ;  and  if  we  love  him,  we  desire  and  endeavour 
to  keep  his  commandments;  and  this  is  the  way  of 
salvation. 

"  1^0 w,  does  my  dear  boy  view  this  in  all  its  integrity  ? 
Do  the  experiences  of  the  past,  strengthened  by  all  the 
variety  and  succession  of  instruction  which  you  have 
from  your  infancy  received,  work  together  to  this  great 
end?  Can  you  be  satisfied  with  anything  short  of  this? 
God  forbid  ?  Let  nothing  interrupt  you  in  this  continual 
work  of  self-examination;  and  let  self-examination  lead 
you  to  earnest  and  ardent  prayer.  Let  no  pursuits  of 
literature,  no  delights  of  sense,  no  passing  occurrences, 
no  debility  of  body,  no  inferior  subjects  of  recreation, 
prevent  you  from  keeping  your  thoughts  close  to  God 
and  to  eternity.  Great  have  been  your  mercies. — may 
your  gratitude  be  great  likewise ! 

'^  Accustomed  as  I  am  to  close  and  faithful  dealings 
with  my  Christian  friends  and  flock,  it  would  ill- become 
me  to  be  silent  or  indifierent  where  my  dearly -beloved 
child  is  concerned.  Sickness  gives  both  you  and  me  a 
wholesome  admonition.  I  pray  God,  from  the  depths  of 
my  heart,  that  we  may  each  of  us  improve  it  to  our 
spiritual  welfare.  God  may  have  great  things  to  accom- 
plish hereby ;  let  us  believe  and  hope  so. 

"  I  had  much  pleasure  in  showing  you  London :  and, 


202      LIF»    xjiP    WILBERFORCE    EICIIMON"D. 

if  Providence  permit,  may  yet  have  more,  in  viewing  tlie 
fine  scenery  in  your  present  vicinity  along  with  you: 
but  whether  amongst  the  beauties  of  art  or  nature,  never, 
never  cease  to  look  for  and  contemplate  the  God  both  of 
creation  or  redemption  in  the  midst  of  all.     Keep  a  con- 
tinual watch  over  your  disposition,  temper,  and  thoughts. 
There  are  not  only  sins  of  the  temper,  but  of  the  under- 
standing also;  and  pride  in  every  form,  intellectual  as 
well  as  sensual,  must  be  brought  low.     'Learn  of  me,' 
said  the  Saviour,  'for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  of  heart.' 
I  write,  as  I  would  talk  with  and  pray  for  you.     May 
this  dispensation  of  the  Almighty,  which  has  for  the 
present  separated  us,    and  given   us   cause    for  much 
anxiety  on  ypur  account,  be  a  season  of  much  profit  to 
us   all!     Lay  these   things   to   heart;   make   them   the 
subject   of  unceasing  petition    at   that  throne  whence 
no   believing  supplicants   are    ever   sent   empty   away. 
Wonder    not    that  I   cannot    rest    contented    with    a 
superficial  religion,  but  that  I  look  for  a  dee^y  experi- 
mental life  of  God  in  your  soul.   I  place  time  and  eternity 
before  me  in  holy  imagination.     I  strive,  as  it  were,  to 
penetrate  the  veil  which  separates  them,  and  to  look 
earnestly  at  those  things  which  belong  to  your  and  my 
everlasting  peace.     Forgive  me,  my  dear  child,  and  may 
God  forgive  me,  if  I  have  not  always  and  equally  pressed 
these  subjects  upon  your  personal  attention.     They  have 
ever  lain  near  to  my  heart,  and  you  have  had  multiplied 
opportunities  of  meditating  upon   them.      I   trust   you 
have  done  so.     But  let  me  know  more  and  more  of  your 
thoughts,  past  and  present.     My  Christian  and  parental 
peace  is  dependent  greatly  upon  it.     I  am  glad  that  our 
friend  Dr.  Stewart  has  had  so  good  an  opportunity  of 
studying  your  case.     But  you  are  in  the  Lord's  hands. 
May  he  overrule  every  thing  for  your  good.     May  your 
confidence  be  placed  only  where  it  is  due ;  and  pray  for 
your  father,  and  your  father  shall  pray  for  you.   Amongst 


LETTERS    FROM    HIS    FATTIER.  203 

the  books  in  your  travelling  library,  arc  many  most 
valuable  authors.  Kead,  mark^  learn,  and  inwardly 
digest  what  they  say,  so  far  as  you  find  time  and  strength 
to  peruse  them.  Above  all,  search  the  Scriptures,  for  in 
them  you  have  eternal  life.  Your  mother  sends  her 
entire  and  most  affectionate  love  to  you:  your  sisters 
and  brothers  the  same.  And  what  shall  I  add  for  my- 
self? All  that  is  tender,  affectionate,  parental  and 
Christian. 

From  your  father, 

L.  E." 

In  the  month  of  July,  Mr.  Eichmond  joined  his  son 
in  Scotland,  using  every  means  for  the  restoration  of 
his  health.  During  a  short  interval  of  separation,  he 
addressed  to  him  another  letter,  expressive  of  the  same 
ardent  desire  for  his  spiritual  welfare,  and  written  in 
the  same  delightfnl  strain  of  warm  and  affectionate 
feeling. 

"Bradford,  Aug.  5,  1824. 
''  My  dear  Wilberforce, 

"  We  have  so  long  been  fellow-travellers  and  pilgrims 
together,  and  my  eye  and  my  heart  have  been  so  long 
accustomed  to  watch  over  you,  that-  I  cannot  help 
wishing  to  indulge  my  affectionate  feelings  by  giving 
a  few  lines  during  this  short  separation;  which,  short 
as  it  has  been,  never  ceases  to  present  my  dear  boy  to 
imagination  and  recollection.  I  have  reason  to  think, 
and  perhaps  the  fault  is  my  own,  that  you  are  but 
imperfectly  aware  of  my  strong  and  anxiou.s  feelings 
towards  you,  with  respect  both  to  your  temporal  and 
spiritual  welfare.  I  sometimes  fancy  I  see  this  in  your 
manner,  and  it  hurts  me.  I  say  little,  or  probably 
nothing;  but  my  heart  is  alive  to  great  sensibilities. 
Eest  assured,  ray  much-loved  child,  that  at  all  past 
periods,   but   most   epecially  since   it   has   pleased  God 


204  LIFE    OF    WILBERFOECE    RICHMOND. 

to  put  your  liealth,  and  of  course  with  it  your  life,  to  so 
marlvcd  a  trial,  I  have  not  ceased  for  a  single  hour  (and 
I  can  hardly  except  the  dreaming  hours  of  the  night,) 
to  make  your  comfort  and  prosperity  the  subject  of  my 
prayers  and  solicitude.  When  you  may  least  have 
expected  it  from  my  ordinary  manner,  even  my  silence 
has  spoken  to  God  in  your  behalf.  Many  and  deep  have 
been  my  meditations,  as  we  ascended  the  hills,  and 
descended  the  vales  of  Scotland ;  or  as  we  ploughed 
the  waters  with  ou»  prows  and  paddles.  I  have  often 
experienced  a  kind  of  stupid  impotency  of  utterance, 
when  my  heart  has  been  animated  and  full.  You  like- 
wise manifest  a  sort  of  reserve  on  the  subject  of  personal 
religion,  which  checks  and  sometimes  chills  my  rising 
inclination  to  more  unreserved,  free,  congenial,  and 
comforting  conversation.  '  I  wish  all  this  to  vanish ; 
and  that  whatever  may  be  the  will  of  God  concerning 
you,  the  future  days  which  his  providence  may  permit 
us  mutually  to  spend  together,  may  be  more  distinctly 
marked  by  free  and  affectionate  communications.  But 
far,  far  above  all,  it  is  my  cherished  and  anxious  hope, 
that  you  may  evince  an  increasing  love  to  spiritual 
things,  to  reading,  conversing,  and  meditating  upon  the 
things  which  belong  to  your  everlasting  peace.  You 
have  had  your  warning  as  to  the  delicate  and  precarious 
tenure  by  which  life,  health,  and  youthful  vigor  are 
held.  Every  day  and  hour  still  reminds  you  of  the 
uncertainty  of  all  things  future,  so  far  as  this  world 
is  concerned.  And  such  warnings  are  unspeakable 
mercies,  designed  by  God  for  the  most  wise  and  benevo- 
lent purposes. 

"  The  season  of  amended  health,  and  present  suspen- 
sion of  painful  and  distressing  symptoms,  is  precisely 
that  in  which  your  heart  should  exercise  a  peculiar 
jealousy  over  itself,  lest  the  comparative  trifles  of  this 
world,  and  the  ensnaring  affections  of  the  ilesh,  should 


LETTERS     FEOM     HIS     FATHER.  205 

deaden  your  feelings  about  the  grand  questions,  '  What 
are  the  evidences  of  my  salvation  ?  AYhat  have  I  done, 
what  must  I  do  to  be  saved?  Other 'studies  than  those 
directly  religious,  may  doubtless  have  their  due  and 
subordinate  place.  Other  books  than  the  holy  scrip- 
tures, and  their  expositions,  may  also  have  their 
moderated  share  of  our  attention ;  but  if  any  human 
study,  or  any  human  book,  have  more  of  our  love  and 
attention,  than  those  which  directly  lead  our  hearts  to 
God,  something  must  be  very  wrong.  Idols  force  them- 
selves upon  our  notice  everywhere,  and  lawful  things  may 
become  idols  by  the  abuse  of  them,  and  the  suffering 
them  to  usurp  the  first  place  in  the  heart 's  affections. 
Never  be  contented  with  slight  and  general  hopes  of  all 
being  right  within,  but  seek  and  strive  after  clear  and 
particular  evidences,  that  you  ^  know  whom  you  have 
trusted,'  for  time  and  eternity.  I  earnestly  entreat  you 
to  examine  yourself  daily  on  scriptural  principles,  that 
you  may  the  more  ardently  tbrow  yourself  on  the 
mercy  of  a  covenant  God,  for  the  forgiveness  of  your 
sins,  the  renovation  of  your  heart,  and  the  guidance  of 
your  judgment.  Never  be  satisfied  with  an  avowedly 
imperfect  Christianity.  A  half  Christian  is  ?io  Christian, 
nor  is  he  accepted  of  God.  Christ  is  a  whole,  perfect, 
and  finished  Saviour:  and  whosoever  is  a  partaker  of 
Christ,  is  a  partaker  of  all  that  he  is,  all  that  he  has 
done,  and  all  that  lie  will  do,  for  the  complete  salvation 
of  all  his  chosen.  Decency,  formality,  and  cold  cere- 
monial worship,  are  poor  and  inefficacious  substitutes 
for  heart-service,  holy  affections,  trust  in  a  Saviour,  and 
love  to  God.  Not  unfrequent  are  the  times,  and  your 
dear  mother  often  experiences  them  also,  when  the 
immensity  of  that  question,  'Am  I  his,  or  am  I  not?' 
overwhelms  me;  and  I  should  sink  in  despondency,  if 
the  free,  undeserved,  and  inexpressible  mercy  of  God, 
did  not  direct  my  soul  to  the  Kedeemer's  blood,  which, 

18 


206         LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE     RICH  M  ONI). 

when  believed  in,  and  applied  to  the  guilty  and  trembling 
conscience,  cleanseth  from  all  sin,  and  opens  the  door 
to  hope  and  consolation.  May  my  beloved  child  flee  to 
the  same  fountain  with  genuine  humiliation,  and  find 
the  like  deliverance ;  and  may  his  anxious  parents  be 
made  so  far  partakers  of  his  thoughts,  as  to  feel  strong 
in  the  Lord  on  Ms  account.  My  mind  was  much 
affected  when  I  first  received  you  at  the  table  of  the 
Lord,  and  my  heart  went  out  in  lively  prayer,  that  you 
might  also  be  received  of  God  —  owned,  honoured,  and 
accepted  as  a  child  of  heaven.  Live,  speak,  and  act  as 
a  consistent  communicant  of  the  church ;  the  vows  of 
the  Lord  are  upon  you :  but  if  all  be  right,  you  will  find 
that  his  yoke  is  easy,  and  his  burden  light.  I  wish  to 
look  upon  you  not  only  as  my  child  by  nature,  but  as 
my  spiritual  child,  and  therefore,  (without  a  paradox) 
my  spiritual  brother.  Sweet  associations  of  relation- 
ship are  formed  in  the  family  of  God  and  the  household 
of  faith.  Many  tender  and  affectionate  prayers  have 
been  daily  offered  up  for  you  amongst  the  poor  people 
of  Turvey,  as  I  have  several  testimonies  to  prove.  We 
shall  sooa return  to  them  again,  God  willing;  and  may 
those  prayers,  united  to  my  own,  be  fully  answered  in 
the  gracious  state  of  your  soul,  as  well  as  in  the  comfort 
of  your  bodily  health !  But  we  must,  as  to  the  latter, 
await  the  Lord's  will.  He  doeth,  and  will  do,  all  things 
well.  Meditate  on  these  things,  and  may  you  and  I 
mutually  reap  the  benefit  of  such  exercises  of  your 
heart  I  As  you  read  this  letter,  cherish  a  tender  as  well 
as  a  dutiful  sentiment  towards  him  who  penned  it,  and 
accept  it  as  one  more  token  of  that  deep-seated  love 
which  I  bear  towards  you,  and  which  must  increasingly 
subsist,  while  I  remain  a  father,  and  you  a  son. 

"I  yesterday  enjoyed  the  high  mental  luxury  of 
walking  in  the  broad  aisle  of  York  Minister,  quite  alone^ 
during   the   morning-service.      As    often    before,    such 


LETTER  FEOM  SCOTLAND.        207 

sights  and  such  sounds  compelled  me  to  weep :  and  as 
I  was  solitary,  nothing  interrupted  the  flow  of  my  heart. 
I  recollected  being  there  once  with  you,  and  I  have  not 
forgotten  how  much,  if  I  mistake  not,  your  infant  heart 
was  also  affected  at  that  time.  Whether  we  shall  ever 
again  meet  together,  in  that  magnificent  and  astonishing 
fabric,  I  know  not;  but,  oh!  may  God  grant  that  we 
finally  meet  in  the  "  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal 
in  the  heavens."  ' 

In  the  month  of  July,  Mr.  E.  engaged  a  small  cottage 
at  Kothsay,  in  the  isle  of  Bute,  at  a  convenient  distance 
frSm  the  physician's  residence.  From  hence  he  made 
frequent  excursions  by  sea  and  land,  in  the  hope,  by  a 
change  of  scene  and  air,  to  check  the  progress  of  the 
disorder.  It  appears  from  the  following  letter  to  his 
curate,  that  he  had  not  yet  despaired  of  his  son's  recov- 
ery ;  but  being  at  once  the  nurse,  the  father,  and  the 
spiritual  guide  of  his  dear  boy,  he  was  making  every 
effort  on  his  behalf,  and  diligently  employing  the  means 
prescribed  by  the  physician. 

''My  DEATi  Feiexd  and  Brother, 
"  If  the  date  of  this  letter  may  seem  to  betoken  inat- 
tention to  my  promise,  or  a  wrong  estimate  of  your 
valuable  services  during  my  absence  from  home,  I  rely 
on  your  friendship  and  candour  to  ascribe  my  silence  to 
other  causes.  I  have  been  almost  daily,  from  morning 
to  night,  sailing  about  with  my  dear  boy  upon  sea  and 
river ;  and  neither  the  motion  of  the  steam-boats,  nor 
the  lassitude  felt  at  night  after  such  voyages,  are  favor- 
able to  epistolary  duties.  But  I  can  truly  say,  that 
my  heart's  best  prayers  and  recollections  have  been 
with  you,  and  this  poor  scrawl  is  meant  to  tell  you  so. 
You  well  know,  likewise,  that  anxiety  within,  added  to 
external  causes,  will  easily  unhinge  the  energy  of  the 


208         LIFE     OF     WILBERFOECE     EICnMOND. 

mind,  and  produce  a  kind  of  constitutional  incapacity 
and  indisposition  to  duty  itself.  But  neither  let  mj 
friend  nor  my  flock  for  a  moment  conceive  tliat  tliey 
are  forgotten.  During  many  an  hour,  as  I  have  been 
floating  on  the  waves,  pacing  the  mountains  and  glens, 
admiring  the  islands  and  the  rocks,  tracing  the  progress 
of  sun  or  moon  upon  the  ocean  or  landscape,  and 
amidst  all,  fixing  an  anxious  and  affectionate  look  upon 
our  dear  invalid  as  he  sat  by  my  side;  during  many 
such  an  hour  have  I  dwelt  with  solicitude  and  regard 
on  the  domestic  and  parochial  scenery  of  Turvey, —  dear 
Turvey,  where  so  many  sweet  pledges,  both  of  natural 
and  spiritual  love,  reside, —  where  my  poor  boy  was  bcfrn 
and  trained  up,  with  brothers  and  sisters  no  less  loved 
than  himself.  Our  intercourse  and  conversations  under 
existing  circumstances,  are  deeply  interesting  to  me. 
He  is,  upon  the  whole,  in  cheerful  spirits,  and  the  air  of 
this  delightful  island  particularly  suits  him.  I  am  just 
returned  from  a  hill-walk  with  him,  of  a  mile  and  a  half, 
and  have  been  surprised  at  the  degree  of  strength  which 
he  evinced.  The  general  symptoms  are  just  now,  I 
think,  more  favorable.  Still  there  are  evident  marks 
of  deep-rooted  disease,  and  I  am  often  much  perplexed 
by  the  fluctuations  in  his  case.  It  is  one  in  which  I 
feel  it  wrong  either  to  encourage  over-sanguine  expecta- 
tions of  permanent  amendment,  or  to  give  way  to  any 
over-desponding  sensations  .as  to  the  result.  Happily 
he  is  without  pain,  and  in  many  respects  he  enjoys 
himself.  He  delights  in  the  scenery  around  us,  which 
is  in  the  highest  degree  magnificent  and  beautiful.  He 
enters  with  his  wonted  taste  into  mineral  and  geological 
examinations,  and  wanders  gently  by  the  sea-side, 
hunting  for  pebbles,  animals,  shells,  sea-weed,  &c.  and 
I  wander  with  him.  Sometimes  a  little  exertion  fatigues 
him,  at  other  times  he  bears  considerably  more  without 
complaining.    He  has  been  a  thousand  miles  on  the  \vatcr 


LETTER     FEOM     SCOTLAND.  209 

since  we  left  London,  and  sailing  always  agrees  Avitli 
him.  I  have  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  with  the  plan 
we  are  pursuing.  It  much  contributes  to  his  strength 
and  comfort,  and  peace  of  mind ;  and,  to  say  the  least, 
has  checked  the  weakening  effects  of  the  disorder,  and 
mingled  encouragement  with  apprehensions  which  might 
otherwise  have  gained  daily  ground.  He  is  evidently 
thinking  very  seriously  and  rightly  about  his  state,  and 
our  Christian  conversation  forms  no  small  part  of  my 
comfort,  and  I  trust  I  may  add,  of  his  comfort  also. 
Whatever  may  be  God's  will,  I  feel  satisfied  that  the 
present  dispensation  is  profitable  to  us  both.  May  he 
confirm  and  increase  our  hope.  I  am  much  gratified  by 
the  accounts  which  I  receive  of  your  very  auspicious 
commencement  of  ministerial  labours  at  Turvey,  and 
beg  you  to  feel  assured  of  the  value  I  put  on  them.  Go 
on,  my  dear  friend,  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord,  and  may 
you  pursue  the  arduous  career  of  holy  exertion,  in  public 
and  in  private,  to  your  own  comfort,  the  glory  of  God, 
and  the  good  of  my  dear  flock.  Make  known  how  affec- 
tionately I  feel  towards  them, —  how  earnestly  I  desire 
their  prayers,  and  how  sincerely  I  remember  them  in 
mine.  My  not  writing  to  them  at  an  earlier  period  has 
arisen  entirely  from  the  constant  occupation  and  anxiety 
which  have  monopolized  my  time  and  my  feelings.  Wil- 
berforce  thanks  you  for  your  kind  letter.  I  hope  he  will 
soon  feel  able  to  answer  it.  Dear  boy! — he  talks  with 
hope  of  returning  to  Turvey  with  amended  health,  and 
telling  you  in  person  how  much  he  enjoyed  the  scenery 
of  the  north.  Pray  for  him,  and  me,  that  we  may  lay  in 
our  neavenly  Father's  bosom  like  children,  and  wait  his 
pleasure  like  believers.  You  will  not  forget  the  other 
dear  boys, — they  are  in  your  hands  for  good,  and  may 
God  bless  you  to  them  all.  Give  them  my  blessing,  and 
lot  them  convey  it  to  all  at  the  Rectory.  Believe  me, 
Yours,  affectionately,  L.  R." 

18* 


210       LIFE     OF     WILBERFORCE     RICHMOND. 

Much  of  wliat  I  sliould  have  detailed  has  been  intro- 
duced into  the  Memoir  of  Mr.  Eichmond.  Two  only  of 
Wiberforce  's  letters  remain ;  the  first  of  these  was 
written  to  his  brother  H. 

"  My  dear  H. 
''I  did  not  think  when  I  parted  from  you,  that  I 
should  be  as  well  as  I  am,  for  I  feel  very  much  better. 
Sickness  and  separation  have  attached  me  more  to  you, 
and  to  my  home,  and  to  all  that  are  in  it.  Sickness,  as 
is  usual,  has  brought  sorrow  for  its  companion,  but  I 
trust  I  do  not  sorrow  as  one  without  hope.  My  illness 
has  proved  a  warning  to  me,  and  it  may  also  be  a  warn- 
ing to  you.  You  saw  me  brought  down,  in  a  very  short 
time,  from  a  state  of  health  and  strength,  to  one  of  weak- 
ness and  debility ;  and  all  our  natures  are  alike,  equally 
fragile,  equally  transient.  Uncertain  is  every  tie  which 
binds  us  to  life ;  and  therefore  it  is  my  prayer,  that 
you,  no  less  than  myself,  may  look  forward  to  our  latter 
end;  and  not  neglect  opportunities  of  attending  more 
closely  to  the  things  which  belong  to  our  everlasting 
peace,  and  guarding  against  the  increasing  fascinations 
of  a  world  that  lieth  in  wickedness." 

The  second  letter  was  a  reply  to  his  father's  instruc- 
tions and  preparations  for  the  Lord's  Supper. 

''My  dear  Father, 
"  I  thank  you  for  the  kind  letter  you  wrote  to  me  on 
the  subject  of  the  Sacrament.  I  could  not  have  received 
one  which  would  have  more  truly  convinced  me  of  your 
affection  and  desire  for  my  spiritual  welfare.  Oh  I  may 
€rod  give  an  answer  to  your  prayers  and  desires  on  my 
behalf,  and  may  you  see  me  walking  humbly  and  sin- 
cerely in  that  narrow  path  which  lead^  to  life  eternal. 
I  have  thought  much  on  the  contents  of  your  letter, 
and  have  been  deeply  affected.  At  first  I  was  discouraged 
by   a   sense   of    unworthiness,    and   shrunk    from    the 


HIS    LETTEES.  211 

thought  of  approaching  the  Lord  's  table.  It  then  struck 
me,  that  even  if  I  had  not  attained  all  I  desired,  *I  might 
still  venture  with  a  humble  and  prayerful  spirit,  and 
an  entire  dependence  on  Christ.  I  thought,  also,  that 
if  I  neglected  attendance,  I  should  be  dishonouring 
the  Saviour  by  a  refusal  of  an  appointed  means  of 
grace ;  and  I  do  hope,  that  by  presenting  myself  to 
Christ  in  his  own  ordinance,  I  may  be  confirmed  and 
strengthened  in  my  faith,  a-nd  helped  on  to  fulfil  the 
vows  made  at  my  baptism,  and  fight  manfully  under 
Christ 's  banner  against  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the 
devil.  I  would  then,  my  dear  father,  put  on  the  garb 
of  humility,  and  go  and  kneel,  as  the  very  lowest  of  his 
disciples,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  of  Jesus,  and  commem- 
orate with  gratitude  his  cross  and  passion,  his  glorious 
resurrection  and  ascension, —  on  the  merit  of  which 
alone  are  fixed  all  my  hopes  in  this  world  and  the  next. 
How  thankful  do  I  feel  that  I  may  kneel  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross.  Oh !  where  besides  could  I  wish  to  stretch 
out  my  aching  limbs  and  die  ? 

"  I  suppose  my  journey  will  make  some  delay  in  your 
intentions,  but  if  I  return  with  renewed  health  and 
strength,  I  would  consider  that  in  receiving  the  sacra- 
ment, I  give  a  pledge  to  God  and  you,  to  devote  myself 
soul  and  body,  to  the  promotion  of  the  divine  glory.  But 
if  I  should  not  return  in  health,  and  if  it  should  seem 
tit  to  the  Almighty  to  shorten  my  life,  yet  if  he  will 
renew  my  soul  by  his  Holy  Spirit,  oh  1  how  unspeakable 
a  blessing  to  wing  my  flight  from  sin  and  sorroAV. 

"  If  I  were  certain  of  his  favour,  and  my  own  change 
of  heart,  I  should  only  wish  to  see  my  Saviour  face  to 
face,  and  praise  and  love  him  for  ever.  I  have  written 
hastily,  but  as  long  as  I  could  without  fatigue,  a  short 
but  I  assure  you  a  sincere  letter. 

Your  affectionate 

WiLBEKFOKCE." 


212       LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

The  closing  scene  of  Wilberforce  will  be  detailed  by 
one  who  loved  him  dearly,  and  was  a  witness  of  liis 
latter  moments.  Mr.  Eichmond  had  desired  his  daugh- 
ter to  note  down  the  events  and  conversations  of  the 
sick  chamber,  and  he  refers  to  them  in  the  following 
letter :  — 

"  My   DEARLY-LOVED  ¥., 

"  I  have  been  very  unwell  with  a  swelled  face,  accom- 
panied by  high  fever;  and  though  better,  am  still  an 
invalid  ;  but  this  illness  is  sent  for  some  good  end  to  my 
soul.  I  desire  to  investigate  that  end  in  a  right  spirit. 
The  fire  at  Turvey  has  done  much  mischief,  and  is  indeed 
a  general  calamity.  I  wish  you  to  relieve  the  sufferers. 
You  may  distribute  for  me  both  money  and  clothing.  I 
shall  be  able  to  decide  better  on  my  return,  what  sum  to 
subscribe.  May  we  know  how  to  'glorify  God  in  the 
fires.' 

''Poor  !    although   her  evidences  were   faint,  I 

thought  them  genuine.  I  have  seen  many  such  cases, 
and  despair  not.  God  often  permits  the  signs  of  true 
faith  to  appear  very  feeble,  when,  nevertheless,  the  soul 
still  cleaves  to  the  Saviour,  in  the  midst  of  many  causes 
of  suspicion  and  perplexity.  Some  are  saved,  "yet  so 
as  by  fire."     Happy  they  who  are  saved  at  all. 

"  I  hope  you  have  a  long  manuscript  of  recollections 
concerning  our  beloved  Wilberforce.  I  depend  upon  it. 
Employ  speedily  some  hours  in  preparing  for  me  all  you 
know  relative  to  that  eventful  period.  I  still  shed 
many  tears  in  the  remembrance  of  that  dearly -loved  boy. 
I  have  feelings  which  never  leave  me  for  two  hours  to- 
gether. They  mingle  with  all  my  cheerful,  and  all  my 
pensive  moments.  I  have  particular  reasons  for  delaying 
to  write  the  memoir,  but  fu^y  intend  to  do  it. 

"  I  have  been  at  Cambridge.  The  recognition  of 
many  old  friends  from  all  parts  of  England,  has  much 


HIS     LETTEES.  213 

interested  me.  Indeed,  associations  connected  witli 
former  days,  have  quite  overpowered  me.  The  older  I 
grow,  the  more  acutely  I  feel  everything. 

"Take  care  of  too  frequent  intercourse  with  the 
world.  I  write  with  a  heart  full  of  love ;  but  I  must 
caution  you.  There  is  nothing  more  dangerous  to  young 
Christians  than  indiscriminate  intercourse  with  persons  of  no 
religion.  It  is  far  more  likely  that  we  should  receive 
evil,  than  impart  good,  in  such  society.  I  have  expe- 
rienced this  too  much  myself  on  many  occasions,  not  to 
feel  it  keenly.  Prudence  and  prayer  are  then  especially 
needful ;  for  we  may  more  easily  conform  to  the  world, 
than  bring  the  world  to  conform  to  us.  Happy  they 
who  have  the  least  to  do  with  it,  except  in  the  way  of 
absolute  duty  and  necessity.  I  often  reflect  with  grati- 
tude on  the  blessing  which  God  has  given  to  the  retired 

habits  and  education  of  my  two  boys,  W and  H , 

one  in  heaven,  and  one  still  on  earth.  To  their  seclusion 
I  ascribe  their  simplicity  and  happy  ignorance  of  many 
evils.  Premature  acquaintance  with  the  wickedness  of 
the  world, —  (and  there  is  no  knowing  the  world  without 
coming  in  contact  with  its  wickedness) — has  ruined 
thousands  of  hopeful  young  men,  and  has  multiplied  the 
miseries  of  the  hopeless. 

"I  long  for  our  early  morning  readings.  Latin, 
Greek,  and  mathematics,  are  a  very  small  and  inferior 
part  of  learning,  particularly  for  the  Christian  ministr}^-. 
While  heads  are  filling,  hearts  are  withering.     Give  my 

affectionate  love  to  dear ;  next  to  my  own  boys  I 

do  indeed  love  him.  I  long  to  see  more  of  an  unreserved 
and  experimental  communication  between  him  and 
H .  I  have  numberless  feelings  about  their  inter- 
course which  I  do  not  utter,  and  yet  I  know  not  why ; 
but  this  I  know,  that  I  have  you  all  in  my  heart ;  but 
that  heart  will  soon   turn   to   dust.     There  is  a  better 


21-i       LIFE    OF    WILBEKFORCE    RICHMOND. 

heart  in  heaven.     I  would  have  all  my  dear  children 
enclosed  in  it. 

"  Give  the  children  of  the  Sunday-school  a  new  sub- 
ject; that  they  may  search  for  texts  to  prove  it. 

^'Farewell,  dearest  F .     I  lament  many  things,  but 

most  of  all  that  I  am  not  worthy  to  be  called 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  K." 

Mr.  E.  was  evidently  ripening  for  heaven.  The  ten- 
derness, the  deep  piety  of  his  loving  spirit,  the  weaned- 
ness  of  his  heart  from  the  world,  and  his  earnest  desire 
to  transfuse  his  devout  feelings  into  the  minds  of  all  who 
were  connected  with  him,  discover  an  assimilation  to  a 
purer  jegion,  and  might  have  prepared  us  to  expect  that 
his  departure  was  not  far  distant.  The  documents  to 
which  he  alludes,  are  contained  in  the  following  com- 
munication, which  I  commend  to  the  serious  and  atten- 
tive perusal,  both  of  young  persons  and  their  parents. 


HIS    LATTER    DAYS.  215 


CHAPTER   YII. 


'Hero  were  two  souls  knit  together  as  the  soul  of  one  man :  what  there  is  of 
present  separation  shall  be  but  for  a  little  while.' 

Howe. 


My  veey  dear  Mr.  F- 


"  In  compliance  witli  your  request,  I  send  you  the  cliief 
incidents  of  our  brother's  closing  scene;  his  conversa- 
tions with  my  dear  father,  and  other  members  of  his 
family,  and  a  few  of  the  letters  which  were  written 
during  that  mournful  period.  You  may  rely  on  the 
accuracy  of  the  whole.  My  father  had  intended  to  have 
published  a  memoir  of  "Wilberforce,  and  with  that  view 
he  desired  me  to  make  memoranda  of  what  passed  at 
the  time.  He  told  me  more  than  once,  that  the  blessing 
which  seemed  to  attend  the  perusal  of  his  little  tracts, 
encouraged  him  to  put  on  record  the  piety  of  his  son  ; 
which  he  considered  to  be  no  less  honourable  to  God, 
and  consoling  and  strengthening  to  young  Christians, 
than  that  of  the  Dairyman's  Daughter,  or  the  Young 
Cottager.  He  thought  that  Willy's  training  for  eternity 
might  be  read  with  equal  advantage  and  might  assist 
both  in  imparting  clear  views  of  religion,  and  in  reliev- 
ing the  mind  from  the  fears  and  anxieties  which  often 
distress  and  harass  young  Christians  in  the  prospect  of 
death.  '  To  know  that  others  have  been  perplexed  with 
the  same  doubts,  alarmed  by  the  same  fears,  animated 
by  the  same  hopes,  comforted  by  the  same  promises, 
and  directed  by  the  same  precepts,'  he  used  to  say,  '  will 
demonstrate    a    holy  identity  in    the    influence    of  the 


216         LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE     RICHMOND. 

gospel  and  tlie  effects  produced  by  it ;  and  may  comfort 
the  trembling  sinner,  and  confirm  the  most  advanced 
believer.' 

^'  There  are  a  number  of  papers  in  my  father's  hand- 
writing, relating  to  my  brother's  character  and  dying 
hours,  which  are  indeed  so  unconnected  and  unfinished, 
that  scarcely  any  use  can  now  be  made  of  them ;  but 
they  show  how  interesting  a  detail  the  memoir  would 
have  been  in  his  hands.  He  would  sit  for  hours  in  his 
study,  perusing  and  adding  to  these  fragments ;  but  the 
excess  of  feeling  and  mental  agitation,  which  the  con- 
templation and  reminiscence  of  the  past  never  failed  to 
renew,  greatly  impaired  his  health,  and  forced  him  to  lay 
aside  his  purpose. 

"  In  one  of  the  papers  alluded  to,  we  found  the  fol- 
lowing remarks  in  his  own  hand.  '  I  have  never  given 
up  the  design  of  writing  his  memoir,  and  every  day's 
meditation  has  prepared  me  for  it.  But  whenever  I 
begin,  my  spirits  sink,  my  eyes  are  filled  with  tears, 
and  I  lay  aside  my  papers  to  a  more  convenient  season, 
when  I  may  be  able  to  write  with  more  calmness.  Alas  I 
this  is  my  weakness  I ' 

"Wilberforce  had  always  been  my  dear  father^s 
companion  in  his  literary  and  philosophical  pursuits. 
From  his  childhood,  his  chief  pleasures  and  recreations 
were  in  the  study  ;  and  he  used  to  retire  to  the  museum 
to  make  experiments  with  the  air-pump,  or  electrical 
machine,  or  to  read  some  book  of -science,  while  the 
other  boys  were  engaged  in  their  sports.  As  he  advanced 
in  years,  he  employed  his  leisure  hours  more  especially 
in  the  study  of  mineralogy  and  geology.  This  congeni- 
ality of  mind  and  pursuit  contributed  to  cement  the 
strong  attachment  which  subsisted  between  my  father 
and  Wilberforce,  and  indeed  rendered  the  one  almost  an 
integral  part  of  the  other.  My  dear  father  had  a  peculiar 
talent  for  connecting  science  with  religion  and  AVilber- 


ins    LATTER    DAYS.  217 

force  seemed  more  tlian  liis  other  children  to  afford  him 
materials  for  a  successful  cultivation. 

''In  my  father's  miscellaneous  papers  we  find  the 
following  short  notes^  evidently  written  with  reference 
to  the  projected  memoir.  '  Early  intellectual  conversa- 
tion^ great  general  reading,  strong  turn  for  reasoning 
and  argument;  deep  and  close  investigation  of  philoso- 
phical questions,  acquaintance  with  subjects  of  political 
economy,  love  of  natural  history,  insects,  mineralogy, 
geology,  classics,  mathematics.  My  wish  and  endeavour 
has  been  to  cultivate  philosophical  pursuits,  in  connec- 
tion with  religion,  with  my  children,  as  recreations,  in- 
stead of  allowing  and  encouraging  the  trifling  and  often 
pernicious  amusements  of  the  world.  I  have  found  my 
plan  answer  in  his  case.' 

"  Our  dear  father  had  succeeded  in  making  his 
home  dear  to  all  his  children.  Home  was  never 
talked  of  without  emotion  by  any  of  them.  They  left 
it  with  regret ;  they  returned  to  it  with  the  fondest 
affection,  and  connected  with  it  every  endearing  asso- 
ciation. No  patriot  Israelite  ever  sang  of  the  place  of 
his  nativity  with  more  enthusiasm,  ''Let  my  tongue 
cleave  to  the  roof  my  mouth,  if  I  prefer  not  Jeru- 
salem above  my  chief  joy."  Our  beloved  parent's 
integrity  and  uniform  consistency  engaged  our  esteem, 
and  the  multiplied  resources  of  innocent  gratification 
which  surrounded  us,  won  our  regard. 

"  As  Wilberforce  grew  up,  he  was  considered  by  the 
whole  family  as  the  one  marked  out  to  fill  his  father's 
place  in  the  church,  and  to  his  relatives.  He  became 
an  object  of  interest  to  all ;  and  to  none  was  he  more 
endeared  than  to  his  loving  parent,  who  clung  to  him 
with  deeper  affection  each  succeeding  year. 

"In  the  spring  of  1824,  when  he  had  reached  his 
seventeenth  year,  we  were  first  alarmed  for  his  health. 
He    took  cold    from    a  wet    ride,  and    a    slight    cough 

19 


218         LIFE     OF    WILBEEFOECE     EICHMOND. 

succeeded.  One  morning  in  tlie  montli  of  May,  my 
father  discovered  symptoms  of  his  having  ruptured  a 
blood- vesseL  His  fears  were  greatly  awakened,  as  appears 
from  a  note  in  his  papers.  '  As  I  looked  on  him  that 
morning,  I  felt  a  shock  which  seemed  to  shatter  me  to 
the  very  soul,  and  I  have  never  recovered  it.'  In  a  short 
time  Wilberforce's  appearance  was  considerably  altered, 
and  his  spirits  were  depressed. 

''When  a  journey  to  Scotland  was  proposed,  my 
father  was  greatly  agitated,  the  more  so  because  it  was 
impossible  that  at  that  time  he  should  accompany  liim, 
and  he  dreaded  even  a  short  separation  from  his  beloved 
child.  His  feelings  will  be  best  shown  by  the  following 
letter. 

''  St.  Neot^s,  Monday  night. 
"  My  evee  dear  love, 
"  *  *  *  Ko  one  knows,  or  ever  can 

know,  the  anxiety  which  I  have  felt  on  our  dear  child's 
account.  Little  as  it  may  have  been  perceived,  I  have 
been  inwardly  agitated  beyond  expression,  and  this 
must  apologize  for  any  weakness  or  inconsistency  of 
which  I  have  been  guilty.  God  only  knows  what  I 
have  suffered.  I  have  been  taken  by  surprise.  The 
alarming  symptoms  in  the  disease  of  our  beloved  child, 
have  awakened  a  thousand  feelings  and  fears.  I  have 
reflected  on  his  bodily,  but  much  more  acutely  on  his 
spiritual  state.  I  liave  been  unwilling  to  separate  from 
him  under  all  the  probable,  or  at  least  possible  contin- 
gencies of  the  disorder.  I  have  wept  and  trembled.  I 
have  mourned  over  my  past  deficiencies  towards  him. 
I  have  had  my  hopes,  not  being  ignorant  of  the  exercises 
of  his  mind  for  past  years.  Yet  I  have  had  my  fears, 
lest  he  should  have  fallen  from  his  first  love,  and  lest  his 
literary  pursuits  should  have  weaned  his  heart  from  God. 
For  more  than  a  year  past,  I  have  hourly  meditated  on 


HIS    LATTER    DA¥S.  219 

the  course  of  his  education,  and  prejjaration  for  the 
sacred  ministry.  He  has  been  the  star  of  my  hopes,  the 
source  of  my  anxieties.  I  have  anticipated  with  exqui- 
site, though  unuttered  joy  and  hope,  his  entrance  on  the 
glorious  work  of  preaching  the  unsearchable  riches  of 
Christ,  and  I  have  also  been  full  of  anxiety  in  a  view  of 
the  falls  and  disappointments  which  yearly  occur,  amidst 
the  contaminations  and  injurious  companionship  of  a 
college  career.  Yet  I  have  never  ceased  to  hope  that 
God  will  work  with  him  and  by  him.  My  declining 
years  have  been  cheered  by  associations  connected  with 
my  interesting  boy ;  but  the  Lord  now  sees  good,-—  and 
blessed  be  his  name, — to  hang  a  dark  curtain  between 
me  and  all  these  thoughts  and  visions.  Hence  I  am 
sometimes  fearful,  sad,  and  heavy. 

"I  see  fully  the  necessity  and  the  propriety  of  the 
proposed  journey,  but  I  doubt  his  strength  and  ability 
to  encounter  the  fatigue  and  trial  inseparable  from  it. 
Chiefly  I  dread  being  absent  from  him  when  heart  and 
strength  may  fail,  and  I  may  only  see  him  again  when 
sinking  into  the  grave,  unaided,  unstrengthened,  u.n- 
blessed  by  his  affectionate  father.  Did  I  but  know  more 
of  his  mind,  I  might  possibly  be  more  at  ease ;  but  his 
reserve  withholds  from  me  this  consolation.  I  have 
made  a  gentle,  and  I  hope  a  considerate  attempt,  to  draw 
him  out  by  a  little  opening  discussion  on  the  sacrament. 
I  start  for  Cambridge  at  half-past  four  to-morrow.  The 
sight  of  that  place  will  most  acutely  remind  me  of  the 
past  as  it  relates  to  myself,  connected  with  the  contin- 
gencies of  the  future  as  it  may  concern  him.  I  have 
many  fears,  mingled  with  the  hope  of  his  recovery.  I 
feel  very  anxious  from  day  to  day.  May  God  overrule 
all  these  things  for  the  good  of  each  of  us  I  Give  my 
love  to  all,  and  an  especial  blessing  to  Willy. 

Your  affectionate, 

L.  B." 


220  LIFE     OF    WILBERFORCE     RICHMOND. 

''  After  it  was  decided  that  my  brother  should  go  to 
Scotland,  we  were  advised  to  send  him  there  by  a  sea- 
voyage,  in  company  with  Mr. .     His  father  was  to 

follow  him  in  a  few  days;  He  was  much  depressed  at 
this  time.  It  was  his  first  separation  from  the  paternal 
roof,  and  his  mind  became  deeply  affected  when  the 
parting  hour  arrived ;  and  when  he  was  to  bid  farewell 
to  his  beloved  mother,  to  brothers  and  sisters,  to  domes- 
tics and  neighbours,  endeared  to  him  by  every  sweet 
and  tender  tie  of  youthful  affection  I  to  the  home  of  his 
infancy ;  to  almost  every  person,  place,  and  thing,  with 
which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  associate  happiness; 
the  agitations  of  his  feelings  increased  the  weakness  of 
his  frame ;  the  conflict  of  his  mind  was  visible  in  his 
countenance,  he  looked  pale  and  languid;  a  painful 
contrast  to  the  usual  smile  which  played  on  his  coun- 
tenance. On  the  morning  of  his  departure  he  was  very 
silent.  He  looked  on  ns  all  as  we  stood  around  him,- 
and  with  tears  in  his  eyes  he  stepped  into  the  carriage. 
During  the  interval  of  separation,  my  father  corres- 
ponded with  him,  ^'  and  was  very  earnest  to  draw  from 
him  a  more  unreserved  communication,  and  to  satisfy 
himself  more  thoroughly  of  the  reality  of  Wilberforce's 
piety,  of  which  he  entertained  some  doubts,  amidst 
many  hopes :  but  my  brother  avoided  the  inquiries  of 
his  anxious  and  distressed  parent.  The  voyage  agreed 
well  with  him.  In  the  course  of  a  fortnight  my  father 
and  I  followed  him  into  Scotland.  We  met  A¥illy  as 
we  entered  the  Firth  of  Clyde  in  a  steam-boat.  He 
looked  much  better;  his  spirits  were  good,  and  the 
meeting  between  us  inspired  reciprocal  feelings  of  hope 
and  joy. 

"  For  a  while  Willy's  health  seemed  to  be  improved ; 
but   we  soon   discovered  that  there   was  no   material 

*See  letter  p.  198. 


Ills    LATTEK    DAYS.  221 

amendment.  For  a  few  weeks  lie  was  buoyant  in 
spirit,  and  apparently  restored;  then  the  hectic  fever 
flushed  his  cheek,  he  grew  weaker,  and  again  sank  into 
depression.  Our  dear  parent,  who  at  that  time  did  not 
understand  the  hopeless  nature  of  the  complaint, 
watched  over  his  wasting  child  amidst  intense  anxieties, 
increased  probably  by  the  uncertainty  of  the  issue  in 
his  own  mind.  It  was  not  a  temporary  separation 
which  alone  affected  him,  though  even  this  was  a  grief 
heavy  to  bear ;  but  the  least  apprehension  of  losing  for 
ever  one  we  love,  fills  the  soul  with  the  bitterest  anguish. 
It  is  impossible  to  be  sincere,  yet  calm,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, while  any  hope  remains,  or  any  help  can 
bo  administered.  A  holy  violence  of  feeling  and  effort, 
best  discovers  the  integrity  of  our  principles.  There 
was  much  in  Wilberforce  to  love  and  admire.  His 
disposition  was  very  amiable.  The  usual  results  of  a 
religious  education  were  visible  in  him;  he  showed 
every  outward  respect  for  religion  ;  strictly  observed  its 
forms  and  duties,  and  admitted  the  theory  of  doctrinal 
truth ;  but  this  did  not  satisfy  our  dear  father.  He 
knew  full  well  that  it  was  very  possible  to  do  what  was 
right  in  the  sight  of  man  without  a  perfect  heart, —  to 
cleanse  the  outside  of  the  platter,  or  beautify  the  sepul- 
chre, while  all  within  might  be  impure ;  inasmuch  as 
the  speculative  approval  of  truth  is  distinct  from  its 
sanctifying  influence.  Accustomed  as  our  parent  had 
been  to  contemplate  the  infinite  Avorth  of  an-  immortal 
soul, —  a  soul  in  this  instance  given  to  him  by  God  to 
train  for  eternity, —  it  was  impossible  that  he  should  feel 
otherwise  than  intensely  anxious  while  he  entertained 
any  doubt  of  its  salvation.  It  was  this  uncertainty 
which  so  greatly  disturbed  his  peace  and  injured  his 
health.  Wilberforce  seemeg.  shut  up  in  impenetrable 
reserve;  he  shrank  from  personal  conversation  on  re- 
ligious subjects,  though   his  thoughtful   and   often  de- 

19* 


222         LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

pressed  countenance  exliibited  traces  of  inward  conflict, 
and  need  of  lielp  and  comfort.  He  afterwards  deeply 
regretted  his  silence,  and  said,  '  It  was  a  device  of  Satan 
to  retard  my  progress  in  vital  experimental  piety.'  Our 
dear  parent  carried  this  trouble  to  God,  and  '  rolled  his 
sorrows  on  Him'  who  alone  can  help  him.  For  many 
months,  he  was  sorely  tried  on  this  point.  But  God, 
always  faithful  and  true,  heard  and  answered  his 
prayers  more  abundantly  than  he  could  ask  or  think. 
'  A  vehement  suitor  cannot  but  be  heard  of  God,  what- 
soever he  asks :  if  our  prayers  want  success,  they  want 
heart ;  their  blessing  is  according  to  their  vigour.'  * 
The  following  letters  were  written  to  Mrs.  E.  about  this 
period. 

''My  dear  love, 
"  Here  we  are  in  something  like  an  earthly  paradise, 
if  beauty,  sublimity,  and  diversity  of  scenery  can  consti- 
tute one.  The  air  is  most  salubrious,  the  rides  delightful. 
I  am  glad  to  say  the  country  agrees  well  with  Wilber- 
force,  who  is  stronger  and  in  better  spirits  than  I  could 
have  expected.  He  varies  occasionally,  but  suffers 
little  at  any  time.  There  is  certainly  an  improvement. 
The  northern  experiment  has  so  far  answered,  that  it 
has  cheered  his  spirits,  and  afforded  him  recreation  and 
change  of  air.  I  have  frequent  hopes  of  his  amendment. 
We  have  therefore  reason  for  gratitude,  whatever  may 
be  the  inscrutable  designs  of  Providence.  My  mind 
reposes  with  thankfulness  on  the  goodness  of  God,  amidst 
a  thousand  anxieties  respecting  my  dear  boy.  We  are 
constant  companio^is,  and  have  much  Christian  inter- 
course together.  Not  only  do  prospects,  scenery,  geology, 
botany,  ships,  rocks,  mountains,  braes,  and  ordinary 
occurrences,  engage  our  notice ;  I  have  much  satisfaction 

•Bishop  Hall. 


HISLATTEK    DAYS.  223 

in  seeing  how  lie  enjoys  these ;  but  higher  things  are  not 
forgotten.  We  pass  daily  the  hour  after  breakfast  in 
religious  exercises.  We  are  taking  Mason's  admirable 
Treatise  on  the  Lord's  Supper  as  a  kind  of  text-book.  It 
affords  me  an  opportunity  of  saying  what  I  wish  to  him, 
relative  to  his  own  personal  interest  in  spiritual  matters. 
I  trust  we  are  going  on  usefully  and  prosperously.  I 
think  I  am  in  my  right  place  and  employment,  watching, 
instructing,  nursing,  and  giving  myself  wholly  to  the 
comfort  of  my  boy  under  his  infirmities  and  vicissitudes. 
His  cough  is  troublesome  twice  or  thrice  in  the  day.  He 
pursues  a  bracing  system  and  a  generous  diet.  To  what 
extent  the  disease  may  be  preying  on  the  vitals,  I  dare 
not  conjecture.  His  present  state  and  appearance  are 
certainly  satisfactory,  but  the  complaint  is  variable  and 
flattering,  and  I  must  rejoice  with  trembling.  Oh !  for  a 
quiet,  reconciled,  patient,  waiting  mind ! 

"  Our  present  beautiful  retreat  is  doing  me  good  also, 
and  I  need  it.  My  mind  and  nerves  have  suffered  a 
severe  shock.  I  am  conscious  of  the  benefit  I  derived. 
How  long  I  may  be  permitted  to  enjoy  it,  God  only 
knows.  I  would  be  thankful,  and  hope  to  receive  grace 
and  strength  for  the  future. 

"  The  weather  is  become  very  showery,  but  is  pleasant 
at  intervals.  These  are  days  which  afford  the  finest 
mountain-effects,  and  in  this  part  of  the  Western  High- 
lands they  are  truly  grand.  We  had  a  rolling  tumbling 
voyage  to  Ardentenny.  Dr.  S.  seemed  on  the  whole 
pleased  with  the  appearance  of  his  patient.     Dear  love 

to   my   children.     Tell   H we   are   surrounded  by 

immense  trap-schistus,   and  red   sand-stone  rocks,  with 
great  variety  of  form,  substance,  and  arrangement. 
*  *  ''^  Much  love  from  all ;  from  none 

more  than  your 

Legh." 


224    life  of  wilbeeforce  richmond. 

"  My  dear  love, 

"  For  a  few  days  after  our  arrival  liere,  "Willy  was 
not  so  well.  The  last  three  days  we  spent  much  on  the 
water,  and  he  is  stronger  and  better  for  it.  Dr.  S. 
thinks  it  a  case  in  which  a  vigorous  pursuit  of  his 
bracing  system  may  prove  successful,  though  he  speaks 
with  caution.  The  worst  symptoms  are,  the  shortness 
of  breath,  and  debility  in  ascending  the  stairs  and  short 
hills.  But  if  the  tone  of  the  system  can  be  raised,  these 
symptoms  will  diminish.  His  spirits  rise  and  Ml  as  he 
feels  better  or  worse.  I  asked  Dr.  S.  what  proportion 
of  cases  had  recovered  under  his  treatment :  — he  replied. 
Where  it  is  regularly  followed,  half.  Willy  rests  much 
on  the  hope  of  amendment,  and  generally  replies  to  any 
inquiry  after  his  health,  ^I  am  better.'  I  never  leave 
him  from  morning  to  night.  Dr.  S.  is  about  live  hours 
sail  from  us.  We  spent  a  pleasant  day  last  Thursday 
with  him  in  Lord  B 's  family. 

"  I  am  inwardly  struggling  and  striving  to  be  calm 
and  reconciled  to  God's  will.  I  am  going  througb 
depths  in  the  inward  meditation  of  my  soul.  When 
you  write  to  Wilberforce,  keep  in  full  view  the  uncer- 
tainty of  human  life,  even  without,  much  more  with, 
the  uncertainty  of  disease.  Patients  like  dear  W.  are 
full  of  stronger  emotions,  and  disposed  to  deeper  medi- 
tations, as  disease  threatens  a  nearer  approach  to 
eternity.  General  sentiments  and  feelings  are  more 
easily  preserved  than  the  special  applications  of  them 
to  a  particular  case.  He  is  still  very  reserved  to  me, 
yet  I  perceive  he  reads,  and  I  think  meditates,  on 
important  subjects.  I  find  it  a  delicate  and  a  difficult 
matter  to  preserve  the  right  balance  between  the  state 
of  his  spirits,  vacillating,  rising  and  falling  with  the 
state  of  his  disease,  and  a  reasonable  hope  which  is  not 
influenced  by  an  earthly  association.  Endeavour  to 
draw  out  his  sentiments  and  feelings,  and  desire  him  to 


HIS  LaTtii;r  days.  225 

keep  a  letter  always  on  the  stoclvs  for  you^ — to  Avrite  a 
little  day  by  day,  till  the  sheet  be  full. 

"So    you   saw   Lord   B 's   funeral   pass   through 

Bedford.  I  could  wish  for  Christianity's  sake  that  its 
open  and  acknowledged  adversary  had  remained  in 
Greece,  where  alone  his  life  and  conduct  seemed  to  have 
been  doing  good.  To  this  country  his  writings  will  be 
a  lasting  bane,  and  must  continue  to  injure  religion  so 
long  as  infidelity,  blasphemy,  and  vice,  can  obtain 
circulation  and  popularity,  when  clothed  and  armed 
with  the  splendour  of  great  genius  and  talent.  These 
constitute  the  real  objects  of  worship  with  many  who 
profess  to  be  Christians.  I  entertain  no  doubt  that  the 
adoration  of  an  intellectual  and  poetical  idol  may  be  as 
great  a  sin,  as  falling  down  to  the  golden  image  in  the 
plains  of  Dura.  Alas  I  we  have  seldom  seen  true  piety 
and  true  poetry  united ;  but  genius  and  vice  have  been 
too  often  associated  in  the  annals  of  mankind.  We  have 
need  of  due  discrimination  in  our  estimate  of  characters, 
to  be  aware  of  the  dazzling  influence  of  able  corrupters 
and  destroyers  of  virtue. 

"You  must  only  expect,  in  general,  a  few  lines 
from  me  ;  but  I  hope  enough  to  convince  you  how  much 
I  love  and  esteem  you.  Convey  to  the  people  an  affec- 
tionate pastoral  message.     The  same  to  Mr. ;  cheer 

and  encourage  him  in  my  name.  To  my  dear  boys  and 
girls  give  sweet  messages  of  love :  and  for  yourself 
accept  a  fragrant  nosegay  of  pretty  things  from  your 
own  affectionate 

Legh." 

"  I  do  not  think  Willy  was  fully  aware  of  his  danger 
at  this  time,  though  from  his  reserve  it  was  difficult  to 
ascertain  his  opinion  of  himself;  and  his  physician  was 
afraid  of  discouraging  him  by  a  disclosure  of  his  real 
situation,    as  he   considered  it   of  importance   that   he 


226       LIFE    OF    WILBERFOECE    EICHMOND. 

should  expect  recovery,  and  cultivate   cheerfulness  of 
temper.  ■^' 

^' Willy  wrote  a  few  letters  during  his  residence  at 
Rothsay,  of  which  the  following  are  specimens  :  — 

"Dear . 


"I  am  not  inattentive  or  indifferent  to  the  kind 
solicitude  you  have  expressed  for  me.  I  now  experience 
what  I  have  only  heard  before,  that  nothing  is  more 
consolatory  in  sickness  than  to  be  remembered  by  those 
we  loved  in  health.  I  have  been  very  unwell  since  I 
saw  you,  and  I  once  thought  I  must  have  given  up  my 
former  enjoyments,  my  future  hopes  and  prospects,  even 

the  pleasure  of  seeing  dear  friends  such  as  you, , 

and  all  I  held  most  dear,  on  earth.  I  shall  never  forget 
the  pang  which  almost  broke  my  heart  on  leaving  home, 
when  I  saw  the  tops  of  the  houses,  and  the  church,  and 
the  fields,  and  the  trees  of  my  native  village  disappear 
from  my  sight.  I  thought,  perhaps,  I  am  looking  for 
the  last  time  on  the  scene  of  my  earliest  recollections  — 
my  fondest  and  dearest  enjoyments;  —  but  it  was  a 
moment  of  weakness,  and  I  fear  it  was  mingled  with  a 
feeling  of  repining.  I  had  always  been  happy — too 
happy ;  my  heart  was  satisfied  with  this  world,  but  God 
was  leading  me  by  a  path  I  knew  not,  in  which  I  should 
find  more  certain  and  durable  enjoyment.  I  needed 
something  to  convince  me  of  the  emptiness  of  the  world, 
and  to  lead  me  to  fix  my  affections  higher.  I  am  now 
much  better  in  health.  I  do  not  look  like  the  same 
person,  and  I  hope  I  am  not  presumptuous  in  anticipa- 

Diseaso  and  the  methods  of  cure  lie  within  the  province  of  a  medical 
attendant,  and  under  certain  circumstances  it  may  not  be  proper  to  interfere 
with  him.  Yet  when  there  is  little  or  no  reasonable  expectation  of  recovery, 
there  is  a  degree  of  cruelty  in  keeping  up  a  delusion,  and  thus  encouraging  a 
patient  to  delay  turning  to  God  till  he  cannot  turn  in  his  bed.  It  is  unjustifi- 
able on  any  principle  of  reason  or  revelation,  The  practice  may  be  traced  to 
an  indifierence  to  religion,  or  an  ignorance  of  its  real  character,— EoiTon. 


HIS    LATTER    DAYS.  227 

ting  another  day  with  you  as  liappy  as  that  spent  a1 

W a  few  months  ago.     Perhaps  you  will  think  i1 

a  common-place  remark,  if  I  express  a  wish  for  youi 
company  at  Eothsay.  The  situation  is  beautiful;  but 
beautiful  as  is  the  sea  stretched  now  before  us,  and  the 
mountains  and  little  romantic  islands  which  surround  us 
on  all  sides,  need  I  say  how  much  more  I  should  enjoy 
their  beauty,  were  you  here  to  enjoy  it  with  us  ?     I  am 

glad  to  have  dear with  me.     We  share  our  joys 

together,  and  think  so  much  alike  about  every  thing. 
To  have  been  translated  so  suddenly  as  I  have  been, 
from  our  flat  country  to  this  mountainous  region,  seems 
like  being  taken  into  fairy  land.  Neither  description  nor 
imagination  can  do  justice  to  Scottish  scenery ;  but  do 
not  suppose,  that  amidst  all  its  charms  I  have  forgotten 
England.  Oh  no !  I  more  than  ever  love  the  little  blue 
hills  of  my  native  country ;  the  fertile  plains,  grassy 
meadows,  waving  valleys,  and  elegant  rusticity  of  the 
cottages,  in  which  we  so  much  excel  the  hovels  of 
Caledonia.  We  have  here  fine  exhilarating  air ;  but  the 
nights  are  cold  and  bleak.  I  long  to  enjoy  again  an 
English  summer  evening, —  to  recline,  as  I  have  often 
done,  on  a  bank  warmed  by  the  setting  sun,  to  feel  the 
balmy  breeze  which  wafts  the  fragrance  of  the  flowers  — 
to  listen  to  the  warbling  strain  of  the  nightingale,  and 
give  way  to  the  wandering  of  my  imagination,  which 
gave  perhaps  a  delusive  yet  fascinating  sensation  of 
pleasure  to  the  fleeting  moment. 

''  I  have  sailed  above  a  thousand  miles  on  the  sea.  1 
am  beginning  to  like  boisterous  weather,  though  I  seldom 
escape  the  consequences.     Adieu. 

Yours  sincerely, 

W." 

*'  About  this  time  my  father  began  to  prepare  Wilber- 
force  to  receive  the  holy  sacrament  for  the  first  time, 


228        LIFE    OF    WILBEKFORCE    RICHMOND. 

and  they  used  to  retire  together  every  day  after  breaMast 
during  our  stay  at  Eothsay.  Willy  listened  to  his  in- 
struction in  respectful  silence,  and  seeming  acquiescence 
in  the  sentiments  laid  before  him :  he  appeared  interested 
and  anxious  to  be  received  into  full  communion  with  the 
church  of  God,  and  was  often  observed  to  be  in  deep 
thought  and  sometimes  greatly  depressed.  His  unwilling- 
ness, however,  to  free  communication  rather  increased, 
and  as  his  health  was  not  materially  improved,  his  father's 
anxiety  often  amounted  to  agony,  and  he  could  not  con- 
ceal the  mental  agitation  which  afflicted  him.  He  con- 
tinued to  weep  and  pray  in  secret  for  his  child's  confidence. 
From  Wilberforce's  conversations  at  a  later  period,  and 
from  letters  written  about  this  time,  unknown  to  his 
father  till  after  his  decease,  we  learnt  what  had  been  the 
deep  exercises  of  his  mind — that  he  was  then  earnestly 
seeking  the  knowledge  and  enjoyment  of  God  —  that 
eternal  things  were  the  daily  subjects  of  his  contempla- 
tion and  inquiry,  and  that  he  also  suffered  much  from  an 
insurmountable  repugnance  to  make  known  his  feelings, 
his  wishes,  his  wants.  He  told  us  afterwards,  that  though 
he  suffered  more  from  suffering  alone,  he  yet  seemed  like 
one  bound  with  a  chain,  and  could  not  venture  to  lean  or 
place  his  confidence  on  any  human  help.  At  this  time 
he  wrote  as  follows : 

''  Rothsay. 
"  My  dear  Mamaia, 

^'I  was  beginning  to  write  to  you  when  your  letter 
arrived.  Yery  many  thanks  to  you  for  it.  It  is  impos- 
sible for  me  to  say  how  much  a  letter  from  home  rejoices 
and  relieves  me,  under  the  peculiar  circumstances  by 
which  I  am  separated  from  it.  The  simplest  thing  which 
happens  in  Turvey,  becomes  to  me  an  object  of  interest. 

"  I  am  very  sorry  I  should  be  the  cause  of  anxiety  to 
you  or  to  any  one  I  love.     I  feel  this  thought  more  than 


HIS    LATTER    DAYS.  229 

any  pain  I  suffer  in  my  body.  Indeed,  I  lament  our 
separation  as  much  as  you  can  do.  This  period  is  one 
in  which  I  could  have  wished  we  might  all  have  been 
together,  but  things  do  not  fall  out  as  we  would  have 
them,  and  it  is  best  for  us  that  they  do  not.  I  wish  to 
feel  resignation  in  everything.  As  for  my  illness,  I 
trust  I  receive  it  at  the  hand  of  God,  and  most  firmly 
believe  it  to  be  the  greatest  mercy  he  ever  vouchsafed 
me.  My  heart  was  engrossed  by  this  world.  My  affec- 
tions were  not  set  on  things  above.  I  did  not  sufficiently 
feel  my  need  of  a  Saviour.  Christ  was  not  my  beacon- 
star  to  direct  the  future  wanderings  of  my  life ;  but  I 
looked  to  the  false  glare  of  humaij  ambition,  which 
would  have  led  me  to  serve  myself  rather  than  God: 
now  I  have  discovered  the  worthlessness  of  all  my  hopes 
and  aims.  I  find  that  all  I  have  hitherto  done  is  of  no 
^vail  in  sickness.  I  have  seen  what  worldly  dependance 
is, —  when  the  world  and  all  that  is  in  it  seems  about  to 
be  hidden  from  our  view  for  ever.  I  trust  also  I  have 
known  something  of  the  joy  arising  out  of  dependance 
on  Christ  in  the  moment  of  extremity.  I  would  ask 
God's  forgiveness  for  making  less  improvement  of  his 
'loving  reproof  than  I  ought  to  have  done.     Eemember 

me  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  G .     I  hope  the  school  is  going 

on  prosperously.  I  wish  my  class  to  be  told,  that 
though  far  from  them,  I  have  not  forgotten  them.  I 
hope  they  are  regular  in  their  attendance,  and  that  if  I 
return,  I  shall  find  them  all  much  improved.  Ohl  if 
you  knew  how  very  often  I  think  of  home.  I  did  not 
know  till  now  how  much  I  was  attached  to  Turvey.  I 
shall  never  forget  my  feelings  when  I  lost  sight  of  our 
little  village.  I  was  obliged  to  summon  up  every  weak 
and  weary  faculty  to  prevent  my  quite  sinking  under 
the  removal  from  it.     *     ^-     ^ 

Tour  most  affectionate  and  dutiful  son, 

20  W." 


230      LIFE    OF    WILBERFOECE    RICHMOND. 

"  Botlisay,  Se;ptem'ber. 
''  My  dear  Mamma, 
''Many  thanks  for  your  affectionate  birtli-day  letter, 
I  shall  always  recollect  my  last  birth-day ;  for  it  was  the 
first  in  which  I  felt  melancholy.  In  the  full  enjoyment 
of  health  and  spirits,  surrounded  by  all  I  most  loved, 
and  by  the  companions  of  my  boyhood,  those  days  were 
wont  to  pass  away  more  quickly  and  happily  than  any 
other.  But  as  I  sailed  pensively  down  the  waters  of 
Loch-lomond  on  the  20th  of  last  month,  a  day  dark  and 
gloomy,  and  in  unison  with  my  feelings ;  I  felt  that  I 
was  no  longer  in  the  spot  where  I  had  spent  my  former 
anniversaries  with  those  who  shared  and  welcomed  my 
happiness.  Yet  I  solaced  the  desolation  of  feeling  with 
the  recollection,  that  though  absent,  there  were  those 
who  were  thinking  of  me,  and  of  this  your  letter  con- 
vinced me.  '^  ^  *'^*  "We  spent  last  Sunday  a^ 
Greenock ;  a  day,  I  trust,  ever  to  be  remembered  by 
me ;  for  on  that  day  I  was  admitted  to  the  highest 
Christian  privilege,  the  sacrament  of  the  body  and  blood 
of  our  Saviour  Jesus  Christ,  ordained  by  him  as  a  per- 
petual remembrance  of  his  precious  death  and  passion. 
Oh  !  that  it  may  be  to  me  a  sign  and  a  pledge  of  my 
admission  to  the  marriage-supper  of  the  Lamb  in  glory. 
I  was  very  much  affected,  and  should  have  been  quite 
overcome  by  emotions  of  my  own  mind,  if  I  had  not 
felt  stronger  and  better  than  usual  on  that  day.  JSTow 
that  I  am  an  outward  member  of  the  visible  church  of 
Christ,  may  I  daily  prove  myself  to  be  one  inwardly,  in 
spirit  and  in  truth ;  and  whatever  portion  of  life  God 
is  pleased  to  allow  me,  I  would  devote  it  to  his  service, 
and  love  him  with  my  whole  heart,  Avho  first  loved  me. 
I  wish  that  another  summer  was  at  hand,  instead  of 
another  winter.  I  feel  a  dread  of  the  winter.  There  is 
already  an  autumnal  feeling  here.  The  leaves  are  be- 
,<;inning  to  change  their  lively  green  to  more  varied  hues. 


niS    LATTER    DAYS.  231 

Did  the  fading  leaf  ever  remind  you  of  a  decay  of  a 

Christian  in  this  world  ?  Like  the  early  tints  displayed 
by  the  unfolding  bud,  are  the  opening  dispositions  of  a 
young  Christian.  His  active  walk  and  conversation 
resemble  the  healthy  vigor  of  the  full-matured  foliage 
and  fruit.  In  the  signs  of  withering  decay  we  see  an 
emblem  of  his  closing  scene,  when  he  has  arrived  at  the 
end  of  his  mortal  existence,  and  sinks  into  a  temporary 
suspension,  to  shoot  forth  in  a  never-fading  spring  of 
immortal  joys." 

"  We  spent  the  months  of  July,  August,  and  Septem- 
ber, in  the  isle  of  Bute ;  but  as  the  season  advanced,  we 
were  advised  to  return  home.  Apparently,  there  was 
little  improvement  in  Wilberforce's  health.  Probably, 
from  being  constantly  with  him,  we  had  not  noticed  the 
gradual,  yet  real  increase  of  the  disorder.  He  certainly 
considered  himself  much  better,  and  entertained  hopes 
of  recovery,  and  expressed  great  pleasure  in  returning  to 
Turvey.  We  passed  a  few  days  on  our  way  home,  with 
some  dear  friends  in  Yorkshire,  with  whom  our  father 
left  us,  while  he  went  to  preach  at  Bradford.  His  great 
anxiety  for  Willy's  eternal  destiny,  appears  by  an  in- 
teresting letter  written  to  him  at  this  time.* 

''  My  brother  arrived  at  Turvey  Eectory  the  beginning 
of  November,  and  was  restored  to  the  quiet  and  peace 
of  his  own  family.  Six  weeks  elapsed  with  little  or  no 
alteration  in  his  appearance.  In  a  letter  which  my  father 
wrote  to  me  at  this  time,  he  says, 

"  Dear  Willy  is  much  the  same.  I  wish  he  was  more 
confidential  and  communicative  as  to  the  real  state  of  his 
soul.  Oh !  what  would  I  give  for  one  voluntary  conver- 
sation or  letter,  detailing  the  former  and  present  history 

*  See  page  198. 


232  LIFE    OP    WILBEKFOECE    RICHMOND. 

of  wliat  is  passing  in  his  mind.  I  think  well  of  it;  and  I 
hope  it  is  comfortable ;  but  I  want  to  know  this  from 
himself.     Many  a  secret  tear  does  his  silence  cost  me. 

"  It  was  during  the  six  months  following  his  return 
from  Scotland,  that  poor  Willy's  soul  was  most  severely 
tried.  He  never  spoke  of  death,  but  he  must  have  been 
sensible  of  increasing  inward  decay.  He  could  not  hide 
from  himself  or  his  family,  the  depression  and  anxiety 
of  his  spirit.  He  was  much  alone,  and  when  he  returned 
from  his  closet  to  his  family,  the  signs  of  sorrow  and  the 
traces  of  some  deep  mental  conflict  were  frequently 
visible  in  his  countenance.  The  Bible  was  scarcely  ever 
out  of  his  hand,  and  after  his  return  from  the  north,  he 
seldom  took  up  any  other  book,  religious  or  literary ; 
which  was  the  more  remarkable,  as  his  chief  occupation 
and  delight  had  ever  been  in  reading  authors  on  almost 
all  subjects.  He  would  now  sit  for  hours,  and  nearly 
whole  days,  over  the  Bible,  in  deep  abstraction :  he  was 
still  silent  to  all  about  him,  and  it  was  sometimes  more 
than  my  dear  father  could  bear,  to  witness  the  increasing 
uneasiness  of  his  mind,  and  the  sufferings  of  his  body. 
After  so  many  ineffectual  efforts  to  penetrate  the  real 
state  of  his  heart,  our  afflicted  parent  had  but  one  re- 
source— to  commit  his  child  to  Grod,  in  faith,  and  under 
the  pressure  of  his  agonized  feelings  to  cry,  ''Thou  hast 
wounded  and  wilt  heal :  hast  broken  and  wilt  bind  up 
again."  The  following  letters  were,  I  believe,  the  last 
my  brother  wrote. 

Dear , 

"  I  am  afraid  that  you  will  conclude  that  our  trip  to 
the  north  has  cooled  our  affections,  and  frozen  them  into 
indifference  to  former  friendships.  You  must  think  so 
no  longer.  ^  ^  ^ 

"  I  am  now  in  that  dear  home  which  has  sometimes 
been  rendered  still  dearer  by  your  presence.    I  reflect 


HIS    LATTER    DAYS.  233 

on  those  hours  with  mucTi  pleasure,  but  the  remem- 
brance is  mingled  with  a  feeling  of  melancholy.  It  is 
possible  thej  may  return;  I  mean  hours  of  the  same 
delight :  yet  I  must  not  forget  my  gradual  decline  for 
the  last  six  months.  I  am  now  in  a  state  in  which  a 
slight  increase  of  disease  might  prove  fatal:  but  I  am 
hoping,  always  hoping;  for  hope  is  a  symptom  of  my 
disorder,  so  I  must  hope.  I  am  no  longer  what  you 
once  knew  me.  The  glow  of  health  and  spirits  does  not 
now  enliven  my  countenance,  which  looks,  I  believe, 
rather  sad :  yet  I  know  not  why  it  should  do  so,  for  I 
have  lost  only  that  which  endureth  for  a  moment, 
and  if  I  obtain  that  which  endureth  for  ever,  the  love 
and  mercy  of  Christ,  surely  I  have  reason  to  rejoice  in 
the  exchange.  In  Christ,  and  Christ  alone,  I  find  peace. 
He  will  not  cast  me  away.  I  have  thrown  myself,  as 
an  unworthy  sinner,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  there 
in  peace  will  I  lay  my  head,  and  I  trust  cheerfully  re- 
sign my  breath  to  him  who  gave  it.  I  used  once  to 
love  the  rose  of  all  the  flowers  the  best ;  but  now  it  has 
left  me,  and  I  turn  to  the  lily,  for  it  seems  to  betoken 
my  approach  to  a  world  of  purity  —  nor  have  I  any  wish 
for  life,  if  Christ  will  receive  one  so  unworthy.  From 
how  much  sin  and  temptation  shall  I  make  my  escape 
by  an  early  death ;  and  quitting  these,  enter  into  a 
heaven  of  joy,  where  there  is  no  more  curse.  I  know  that 
in  very  faithfulness  Grod  has  afflicted  me ;  —  my  chief 
sins  were  pride  and  ambition,  and  these  have  been  the 
very  means, —  at  least  the  chief  causes,  of  my  disease. 
Proud  of  my  talents,  and  seeking  the  admiration  of 
men,  I  neglected  my  health  till  it  was  too  late  to  correct 
the  error,  and  now  my  dreams  of  future  happiness  in 
this  world,  and  all  my  ambitious  hopes,  are  fled.  But 
I  would  not  exchange  the  humility  of  a  Christian  for 
the  phantom  at  which  I  formerly  grasped.  People  tell 
me  I  shall  recover.     There  may  be  hope,  but  my  own 

20* 


234      LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

impression  is  to  the  contrary.     Pray  for  me^  dear 

and  let  a  tear  fall  for  the  sins  of 

Your  affectionate; 

W." 

"  Jan.  4,  1825. 
"Many,  many  thanks,  dear  mamma,  for  your  long 
and  kind  letter.  I  know  you  love  me,  and  think  of  me, 
while  you  are  absent ;  and  it  is  some  little  consolation 
for  your  absence,  and  yet  but  little,  ibr  I  long  for 
your  return  very,  very  much.  The  house  is  dull 
without  you,  and  I  am  dull;  for  I  am  deprived  of  the 
society  of  one  I  hold  most  dear.  Do  come  as  soon  as 
circumstances  will  permit.  I  would  not  press  it, 
mamma,  but  I  am  not  nearly  so  well  as  when  your  left 
me.  My  spirits  are  weak,  and  my  appetite  almost 
gone.  ^  *  *  '^  I  am  glad 

that  you  wrote  to  me  so  openly  and  candidly  on  the 
subject  of  death.  I  feel  my  earthly  tabernacle  fast 
wearing  away,  and  every  day  brings  more  occasion  for 
solemn  thought  and  serious  reflection ;  and  now,  dear 
mamma,  having  said  this,  I  know  you  will  be  very 
anxious  to  hear  something  about  the  state  of  my  mind. 
Just  now  it  is  most  unhappy.  The  thought  has  forced 
itself  upon  me,  that  I  am  not  a  child  of  God,  but  have 
been  deceiving  myself  with  false  hopes.  My  breast 
heaving  with  anguish,  and  my  eyes  swollen  with  tears 
too  big  to  find  a  passage,  would  bear  witness  to  the 
agony  of  spirit  I  have  endured  this  day.  But  I  have 
cast  myself  at  the  feet  of  my  heavenly  Father,  and  have 
implored  him  by  his  mercy,  by  the  love  which  led  him 
to  send  a  Saviour  into  the  world,  by  the  death  and 
intercession  of  that  Saviour,  by  the  encouragements  lie 
has  held  out  to  sinners  to  come  unto  him,  and  by  the 
help  which  he  has  promised  to  all  those  who  do  so 
come, —  I  have  implored  him  not  to  send  me  empty 


HIS    LATTER    DAYS.  235 

awaj.  I  have  not  yet  fo-und  comfort,  but  I  am  looking 
and  trusting.  He  lias  said,  Whom  I  love  I  chasten.  I 
do  hope  this  may  be  his  dealing  with  me ;  and  if  so,  I 
shall  be  thankful  for  it.  Amidst  these  conflicts,  I  see 
as  it  were,  a  light  glimmering  through  the  darkness, 
which  leads  me  on  in  hope.  Oh,  mamma,  if  you  love 
your  son,  join  your  prayers  to  his,  that  this  life,  this  ray 
of  hope  may  increase,  and  that  he  may  have  a  sure  and 
certain  hope  of  a  joyful  resurrection  to  eternal  life.  I 
thank  you  for  Miss  Jerram's  Memoir.  I  never  read  any 
book  with  more  interest.  She  had  exactly  the  same 
feelings  I  have ;  but  God  removed  them  in  his  own  good 
time !  and  I  derive  a  hope  from  her  deliverance,  that  I 
shall  not  be  cast  away.  I  will  not  think  it.  I  should 
deny  his  word — his  promises.  Sorrow  not,  mamma, 
that  I  must  leave  you, — we  shall  not  be  long  separated. 
Two  little  ones  are  gone  before  me,  and  will  you  not 
rejoice  that  God  has  been  so  gracious  to  them  ?  They 
know  not  the  sin  and  sorrow  of  the  world.  I  have 
known  both,  and  I  wish  to  encounter  no  more.  ISTot  one 
prayer  have  I  offered  up  for  life ;  but  I  have  said.  Lord, 
give  me  a  converted  heart,  and  do  with  my  life  as  seemeth 
thee  best.  I  feel  no  desire  for  life.  Do  not  think  I  want 
affection.  The  thought  of  parting  with  you  all,  is  more 
than  I  can  well  bear;  but  God  will  give  me  strength. 

"  You  blame  yourself  for  not  having  talked  with  me 
on  religious  subjects.  I  am  sorry  to  say  you  would 
have  found  in  me  a  backwardness  which  I  was  never 
able  to  overcome;  but  now  if  you  were  here,  I  could 
talk  most  confidentially  with  you :  *  *  *  *  -h- 
May  the  Spirit  of  God  rest  upon  you !  May  he  comfort 
you  under  present  anxiety  —  may  he  speak  to  your  heart 
in  future  sorrows — may  you  find  joy  in  all  your  tribu- 
lations, and  an  earnest  of  that  rest  which  is  prepared  for 
the  people  of  God !     I  am, 

Your  affectionate  "W." 


236        LIFE    OF    -WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

''  The  last  letter  my  brother  attempted,   was  to  Mr. 
in  Scotland.     It  was  written  under  great  debility, 


and  was  left  very  unfinished :  — 
"  My  dear  Brother. 


"Forgive  me  if  I  write  this  letter  in  a  very  disjointed 
style.  I  cannot  Avrite  long  together,  and  it  is  difficult 
to  resume  thou2:hts  once  broken  in  their  connection. 
Many  thanks  for  your  kind  letter.  You  need  not  have 
begun  with  excuses.  You  make  me  anxious  to  have 
you  with  me — I  want  to  unburden  my  heart  to  you.  I 
wish  to  hear  a  voice  of  comfort  from  you.  I  never 
could  speak  freely  on  these  subjects  —  I  am  sorry  you 
found  me  so  backward  to  religious  conversation,  but  I 
could  not  surmount  my  repugnance — I  found  it  impos- 
sible—  I  was  not  near  enough  to  death  —  I  had  not  known 
trials  and  conflicts  enough  to  overcome  my  reserve,  and 
induce  me  to  unbosom  my  thoughts  and  feelings.  But 
now  that  I  am  struggling  for  life,  now  that  I  have 
experienced  hours  of  mental  agony,  which  might  often 
have  been  alleviated,  could  I  have  opened  my  heart : 
how  much  do  I  long  to  have  you  near  me.  How  confi- 
dently, how  freely,  would  I  converse  with  you  I  " 

''  Hitherto  "Willy's  decline  had  been  so  gradual,  as 
scarcely  to  be  observed  by  those  who  were  constantly 
about  him.  He  rode  on.  horseback  daily,  sat  much 
with  my  father  in  the  study,  and  appeared  to  his  family 
nearly  as  usual,  except  that  an  increased  anxiety  was 
visible  in  his  countenance.  But  early  in  January,  1825, 
a  considerable  alteration  was  apparent.  He  wasted 
rapidly;  death  was  evidently  approaching.  We  were 
taken  by  surprise ;  for  our  fears  had  been  lulled  asleep. 
My  dear  father  wrote  as  follows :  — 


his  latter  days.  237 

"My  dearest  F. 
"  As  I  think  more  "ancertainty  hangs  over  the  day  of 
your  arrival  than  I  wish,  I  write  to  hasten  your  return. 
Dear  Willy  droops,  he  declines  fast.  He  misses  you 
much,  and  often  says  he  wants  you.  Many  symptoms 
increase  my  anxiety  about  him.  He  is  much  weaker 
within  the  last  few  days.  Come  to  us  immediately. 
We  want  another  nurse.  His  breathing  is  with  diffi- 
culty and  pain.  His  sleep  and  appetite  fail  —  his  looks 
are  pale  and  wan — his  whole  frame  is  sinking  —  his  mind 
seems  very  calm  and  composed,  but  he  still  says  nothing. 
I  am  persuaded  that  a  great  deal  more  has  passed  within 
than  we  know  of,  and  that  of  an  excellent  kind.  Peace 
and  grace  be  with  him  and  you,  and  with 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  E." 

"P.S.  Since  I  wrote  the  above  I  have  had  a  very 
long,  free,  unreserved  conversation  with  our  dear  boy, 
most  affectionate  and  affecting,  and  close  to  the  great 
point.  It  is  an  immense  relief  to  my  mind.  He  is  to 
me  an  interesting  mixture  of  anxiety  and  hope.  His 
language  sometimes  resembles  that  of  your  own  letter : 
at  other  times  he  can  trust  more.  Oh !  that  I  might 
see  both  my  beloved  children,  yea,  all  of  them,  living 
by  faith  on  the  Son  of  God !  "  By  grace  are  ye  saved, 
through  faith,  and  that  not  of  yourselves,  it  is  the  gift 
of  God. 

"Willy's   most    distressing   symptom   is   a   kind   of 
suffocating  feeling.     We  know  not  what  this  may  pro 
duce.     You  will  not  be  surprised  at  my  distress.     Do 
not  wait  for  an  escort,  but  trust  Providence  for  a  safe 
journey  home. 

(Tuesday) 
'  You- will  be  anxious  to  hear  how  the  dear  boy  is 


238        LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

to-day.  He  is  extremely  ill  in  body,  and  exceedingly 
well  in  mind — in  a  peculiarly  lioly  frame.  He  slept  a 
little  in  tlie  arm-chair  last  night;  but  bis  decay  is  rapid. 
He  wishes  to  talk  with  you  on  many  subjects.  I  hope 
he  may  have  strength  at  intervals  to  do  so.  His  con- 
versations with  me  have  been  most  valuable  and  interest- 
ing,— praised  be  God !  I  am  so  comforted  by  my  dear 
boy's  unreserved  communications,  that  I  frequently 
forget  the  pain  of  parting.  Who  could  be  so  selfish  as 
to  wish  to  stop  his  journey  to  heaven !  Yet  how  trying 
to  nature  is  the  idea  of  parting  with  him !  "Well,  under 
every  bereavement  and   separation  from  others,  forget 

not,  my  dear  E ,  the  use  you  may  always  make  of 

your  father  who  loves  you.  You,  also,  have  been  too 
reserved  towards  him ;  for  he  is  indeed  and  indeed. 

Your  affectionate  parent, 

L.  E." 

'^  My  mother  Avas  still  at  Bath,  to  which  place  she  had 
been  summoned  to  attend  the  dying  bed  of  her  own 
parent;  and  my  father  wrote  to  beg  her  return. 

"  My  dear  LOVE; 
"Our  dear  "Willy's  weakness  has  increased  with 
such  unexpected  rapidity  within  the  last  three  days, 
that  I  wish  you  to  return  home  immediately.  He  is 
exceedingly  anxious  that  you  should  not  delay  an  hour 
in  coming  to  him.  Amidst  my  great  anxieties,  I  have 
the  pleasure  of  telling  you  that  the  spell  of  silence  is 
happily  broken  between  us,  and  he  has  opened  his  whole 
heart  to  me.  He  is  in  a  very  anxious  but  hopeful  frame 
of  mind.  By  our  mutual  conversation  of  yesterday  and 
to-day,  I  am  relieved  from  a  heavy  burden.  All  the 
nameless  pangs  of  my  mind,  during  the  last  eight 
months,  have  been  almost  blotted  out  of  my  remem- 
brance  by  my  present  consolations.      My   prayers   are 


HIS    L  AT  TEE    DAYS.  239 

answered  at  last;  the  door  of  ■atterance  is  opened,  and  I 
am  truly  thankful.  Your  mind,  as  well  as  mine,  has 
long  anticipated  the  probable  result  of  this  sickness. 
We  must  go  to  the  strong-hold  for  help,  and  we  shall 
not  fail  to  find  it.  I  am  staying  from  church  to  enjoy  a 
sabbath  with  our  dear  boy :  he  has  had  a  very  bad  night, 
chiefly  in  the  arm-chair ;  the  fever  has  been  excessively 
high,  and  the  pulse  at  the  utmost.  But  take  comfort 
from  the  state  of  his  mind.  It  is  truly  interesting.  All " 
its  natural  superiority  mingles  with  its  spiritual  charac- 
teristics. He  that  once  comforted  you  in  your  own 
dangerous  sickness,  will  comfort  you  in  the  distress  of 
your  soul.  Let  us  trust  God  in  overruling  all  for  the 
best.  When  not  oppressed  by  debility  and  pain, 
Willy's  countenance  beams  with  sweet  smiles  of  com- 
posure and  love.  He  often  inquires  when  you  may 
be  expected :         *  *  *     Of  my  other  feelings  I 

can  say  but  little.  Ko  one  but  Grod  knows  all  that  has 
passed  in  my  heart  for  more  than  eight  months,  I  may 
say  for  years,  concerning  Wilberforce  ;  But  God  is  good 
and  gracious. 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

L.  E." 

''AH  reserve  was  now  banished  from  my  brother's 
mind.  He  opened  his  whole  heart  to  his  father,  told 
him  minutely  of  all  his  past  conflicts,  spoke  of  his  pre- 
sent comforts,  and  begged  that  he  might  be  closely  ex- 
amined. He  wished  to  satisfy  his  parent  and  pastor 
that  his  faith  was  scriptural  and  sincere.  He  seemed 
to  go  beyond  his  strength  in  conversing  —  even  to  ex- 
treme exhaustion,  and  appeared  very  anxious  to  tell  how 
God  had  enlightened,  converted  strengthened,  and  com- 
forted him.  He  would  sit  for  hours  with  his  dear  father 
in  the  study,  supported  in  an  easy  chair,  telling  him  of 
all  he  had  gone  tlirough, —  intreating  his  pardon  for  the 


240        filFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

uneasiness  he  had  occasioned  him  bj  his  past  silence, 
and  expressing  his  great  joy  at  now  being  able  to  con- 
verse with  freedom,  and  mingle  their  souls  together  in 
the  delightful  interchange  of  confidence.  It  was  now 
that  our  beloved  father  was  indeed  comforted,  and  that 
he  received  a  full  answer  to  patient  prayer.  Edified, 
refreshed,  and  calmed  by  the  holy  language  of  his 
child,  his  mind  was  supported  under  the  expected  and 
'long-dreaded  pang  of  parting.  These  conversations, 
which  were  continued  until  increasing  weakness  ren- 
dered them  impossible,  induced  my  father  to  form  the 
resolution  of  writing  a  memoir  of  Wilberforce,  the  im- 
perfect outline  of  which  is  all  that  is  left  to  us.  I  have 
often  heard  my  father  and  brother  give  the  same  opinion 
of  the  reserve  which  occasioned  so  much  pain  on  both 
sides,  and  to  which  frequent  allusion  has  been  made. 
They  considered  it  as  God's  way  of  dealing  with  a  pecu- 
liar state  of  mind — intended  to  humble  the  pride  of  the 
understanding,  and  silence  a  love  of  argument.  It  was 
the  Holy  Spirit,  as  a  sovereign,  converting  without  hu- 
man agency.  Wilberforce  said,  that  for  more  than  three 
months  he  had  never  looked  into  any  book  but  the 
Bible ;  that  God's  word  had  been  his  only  study,  and 
that  amidst  all  his  anxiety,  often  amounting  to  agony 
of  mind,  he  could  find  no  relief,  either  from  religious 
books  or  religious  conversation ;  but  was  obliged  to  go 
to  the  Bible  for  everything  he  wanted  to  know  :  —  that 
whenever  he  opened  the  Bible,  he  turned  verse  after 
verse  into  prayer  as  he  read,  and  that  in  so  doing  he  felt 
a  force,  a  sweetness  and  consolation  passing  all  under- 
standing:—  that  though  lie  knew  he  had  a  father  who 
loved  him  tenderly,  and  was  so  able  and  willing  to  in- 
struct him,  and  remove  his  perplexities,  he  felt  himself 
as  one  ayIio  was  spell -bound,  and  could  not  break  silence 
—  and  so  he  retired  to  his  solitary  chamber  to  weep  and 
struggle  on  in  darkness  —  until  the  Holy  Spirit  became 


niS    LATTER     DAYS.  241 

his  teaclier,  showing  him  the  piercing  spirituality  of  a 
perfect  law ;  amidst  conviction  and  terror  of  conscience 
leading  him  to  the  cross  to  seek  for  mercy  through  him 
that  was  crucified  upon  it :  and  enabling  him  to  receive 
the  promise  of  free  salvation  in  Christ  by  his  blood  and 
righteousness  unto  justification.  ^I  have  built/  he 
would  say,  'all  my  hopes  for  eternity  on  God's  word, 
which  is  unerring  truth.  I  have  found  peace  there,  and 
have  been  sealed  by  the  Spirit  which  indited  that  word, 
having  received  an  earnest  of  the  heavenly  inheritance. 
It  was  without  human  aid,  that  I  might  give  God  the 
glory.' 

'  I  have  mentioned  to  you  some  interesting  conver- 
sations which  passed  at  this  time  between  Wilberforce 
and  my  dear  father.  The  following  paper  in  my  father's 
handwriting  is  the  only  one  su£fi.ciently  connected  for 
insertion. 

"  Subjects  of  conversation  with  me  on  Friday  :  — 
'^Warburton — examination  of  evidences — acknow- 
ledgment of  errors  —  God's  reasons  for  taking  him  away 
from  the  ministry — prayer — Christ's  love  —  God's  way 
of  humbling  pride — infidel  temptations — on  mere  edu- 
cational religion — his  secret  conflict  for  four  years  past 
between  a  love  of  science  and  a  love  of  religion." 

"  On  Saturday  he  expressed  a  wish  to  see  our  family 
surgeon;  "not,"  said  he,  "that  I  want  medicine,  which 
will  do  me  no  good,  but  I  wish  for  his  opinion  of  the 
progress  of  the  disorder ;  it  will  be  a  great  satisfaction 
to  me  to  know  precisely,  how  long  he  thinks  I  may  live. 
My  strength  fails ;  yet  the  symptoms  vary  very  much." 
The  surgeon  arrived  in  the  evening.  Willy  converged 
freely  with  him,  and  begged  him  to  be  open  and  explicit. 
Mr.  — —  saw  clearly  that  he  was  now  in  the  last  stage 
of  consumption,  and  he  was  surprised  at  the  cheerful 
and  unembarrassed  manner  with  which  he  discoursed 
on  his  present  situation.     I  left  them  together  for  a  few 


242  LIFE     OF    WILBEEFOllCE     11 1  C  II  M  O  N  D. 

minutes.  On  my  re-entering  the  room  I  was  struck 
with  his  countenance,  which  presented  a  mixture  of 
calm  and  lively  satisfaction,  as  he  was  conversing  with 
his  medical  attendant,  who  on  his  return  to  the  family 
spoke  with  great  feeling  of  his  patient.  He  said,  "  the 
danger  is  imminent,  though  it  is  impossible  to  say  how 
long  he  may  remain,"  and  added,  "  I  have  scarcely  ever 
witnessed  so  much  cheerfulness  and  composure  in  any 
one  in  the  prospect  of  death ;  certainly  never  in  so  young 
a  person." 

■^         "^         *         I  returned  to  my  son,  who  said  that 

Mr. 's  visit  had  afforded  much  relief  to  his  feelings. 

"  I  see  what  he  thinks  of  my  case,  and  it  is  right  I  should 
know  it."  There  w^as  a  union  of  thoughtfalness  and 
serenity  in  his  manner  which  affected  me  exceedingly ; 
but  it  filled  me  with  gratitude  and  thankfulness  to  wit- 
ness in  this  well-ordered  and  calm  state  of  mind  an 
evidence  of  God's  work,  and  of  a  divine  change.  He 
observed,  "  I  have  no  expectation,  of  any  advantage  from 
medicine ;  but  it  may  palliate  distressing  symptoms.  The 
great  Physician  alone  will  regulate  all  for  the^best,  both 
for  body  and  soul.  Oh !  I  want  to  trust  him  more  and 
more ! " 

"In  the  evening,  as  we  were  sitting  alone  in  the 
study,  I  asked  him  whether  he  had  read  the  book  I  had 
put  into  his  hands,  and  whether  he  had  found  its  con- 
tents satisfactory.  Instead  of  giving  any  direct  reply 
to  this  question,  he  looked  at  me  with  an  earnest  ex- 
pression of  countenance,  and  said,  "  Papa,  do  not  be 
afraid :  I  wish  you  to  examine  me.  I  am  anxious 
neither  to  deceive,  nor  be  deceived  in  respect  of  my 
spiritual  estate.  You  cannot  be  too  plain  with  me."  I 
had  been  for  a  long  time  past  earnestly  longing  for  a  full 
disclosure  of  his  thoughts,  but  his  reserve  had  hitherto 
kept  me  from  all  knowledge  of  his  real  estate.  In  an- 
swer to  questions  of  a  personal  nature,  he  would  only 


HIS    LfATTEll     DAYS.  243 

reply,  '^  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  ;•  another  time  I  may 
tell  better."  On  religious  subjects  in  general  he  never 
refused  to  converse  freely,  but  he  shrank  from  every 
attempt  at  personal  application.  I  was  therefore  de- 
lighted when  he  thus  voluntarily  afibrded  me  an  oppor- 
tunity of  knowing  the  secret  state  of  his  mind,  for  which 
I  had  long  and  most  anxiously  prayed.  I  told  him  how 
much  I  had  wished  to  gain  his  confidence,  and 
feared  I  had  not  urged  him  to  freedom  of  intercourse 
with  sufficient  earnestness.  "Indeed,  papa,"  he  said 
"the  fault  was  not  yours.  I  have  felt  a  backwardness, 
particularly  of  late,  to  disclose  what  was  passing  in  my 
mind,  and  had  you  pressed  me  more  than  you  have 
done,  to  speak  of  myself,  I  believe  you  would  have  failed 
to  have  obtained  your  object.  But  now  I  feel  qi^jte  at 
liberty  to  talk  of  myself,  and  I  must  first  tell  you  that 
I  think  I  see  God's  design  in  keeping  me  thus  shut  up 
from  you.  It  was  his  gracious  purpose  to  teach  me,  in 
the  privacy  and  solitude  of  inward  meditation,  my  state 
as  a  sinner,  and  the  nature  of  salvation  by  a  Saviour ; 
here  I  learnt  the  deep  things  of  God,  and  now  I  would 
come  forth  and  tell  you  what  Christ  has  done  for  my 
soul."  His  countenance  brightened  as  he  uttered  these 
words;  a  tear  dropped  from  his  cheek,  and  his  eye 
glistened  with  animation,  as  he  said,  "  I  have  had  great 
exercises  of  mind  of  late,  but  God  has  been  very  merciful 
to  me  in  the  midst  of  them." 

"  And  what,"  said  I,  "  are  your  present  feelings,  my 
dear  boy?"  "I  feel,  papa,"  he  replied,  "more  hope 
than  joy.  I  have  read  of  ecstacies  in  the  view  of  dying, 
which  others  have  experienced,  and  to  which  I  am 
still  a  stranger ;  but  I  have  a  hope  founded  on  the  word 
of  God,  which  cheers  and  supports  me.  I  know  in  whom 
I  have  trusted,  and  I  believe  he  will  neither  leave  nor 
forsake  me.  I  am  not  afraid  of  death ;  but  as  I  think 
my  time  will  not  be  long,  I  wish  to  put  myself  first  into 


244       LIFE    OF    WILBEKFOECE    RICHMOND. 

the  Lord's  hand,   and  then  into  yours,  that  you  may 
search  and  try  me,  whether  I  am  in  any  error."     Such 
an   important    moment   was  not    to    be    neglected.      I 
received  my  child's  confidence  as  an  answer  to  many 
an  anxious  and  earnest  prayer  which  I  had  offered  up 
to  God,  and  I  resolved  to  use  it,  as  affbrding  an  oppor- 
tuity  of  peculiar  interest   to   us   both.     Satisfied   as   I 
had  long  been  with  the  general  view  of  his  religious  and 
moral  character,  strengthened  by  a  discovery  of  many 
evidences  of  inward  principle,  still,  when  I  considered 
the  near  approach  of  death  and  eternity — the  value  of 
an  immortal  soul — the  danger  of  spiritual  delusion,  and 
my   own   immeasurable    responsibility   as   a   parent,    I 
resolved  to  leave  nothing  unsaid  or  untried,  which  would 
bring  our  hearts  into  mutual  repose  on  the  great  subject 
of  salvation,  and  my  dear  child's  personal  interest  therein. 
"  I  found  his  mind  perfectly  clear  as  to  the  great  prin- 
ciple of  his  acceptance  with  God,  solely  and  unequivo- 
cally through  the  death  and  righteousness  of  Christ.     In 
the  most  simple  and  satisfactory  manner  he  renounced 
all  dependance  upon  every  word  and  deed  of  his  own. 
"It  is,"  said  he,   "as  a  guilty  sinner  before  God,  that  I 
throw  myself  on  his  mercy.     I  have  no  excuse  to  offer 
for  myself,  no  plea  to  put  in  why  God  should  not  utterly 
destroy  me,  but  that  Jesus  died  to  save,  to  pardon,  and 
to  bless  me.     It  is  his  'free  gift,  and  not  my  deserving. 
Oh !  papa,  what  would  become  of  me  if  salvation  was  by 
works  ?     What  have  I  ever  done,  and  above  all,  what  in 
my  present  state,  could  I  now  do,  to  merit  any  thing  at 
his  hands?     God  forbid  that  I  should  rest  on  such  a 
flimsy,  fallacious  system  of  divinity,  as  that  which  ascribes 
merit  to  man.     I  have  no  merit.     I  can  have  none.     I 
thank  God  I  have  long  known  this.     I  fear  many  trust 
in  themselves,  and  thus  rob  Christ  of  his  glory.     Is  not 
this  true,  papa?  " 

"Yes,  my  dear  Wilberforce,  many  do  deceive  them- 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.      245 

selves,  and  build  for  eternity  on  a  wrong  fonndation. 
But  I  have  endeavoured  to  impress  on  your  mind  from 
your  childliood,  that  salvation  by  grace,  and  not  of 
works,  is  the  peculiar  feature  of  tbe  gospel  of  Christ; 
and  do  you  not  now  see  that  this  is  the  doctrine  of  the 
Bible?" 

'  Yes,  papa,  and  it  is  because,  after  long  and  repeated 
study  of  the  Bible,  I  have  found  the  doctrine  there,  that 
I  believe,  and  am  now  comforted  by  it.  You  will  pardon 
my  saying  that  the  opinions  which  I  have  formed,  and 
the  doctrines  on  which  I  rest,  have  not  been  imbibed 
from  the  sermons  I  have  heard,  or  the  books  which  I 
have  read,  but  from  a  close  study  of  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves. I  have  been  accustomed  to  bring  sermons  and 
books  to  the  test  of  the  Bible,  and  not  the  Bible  to  them. 
You  cannot  think  what  light  and  comfort  I  have  found 
in  reading  God's  own  word :  I  never  found  any  thing 
like  it  from  any  other  book." 

"I  particularly  inquired  into  the  history  of  his  mind 
for  more  than  three  years  past,  in  reference  to  those 
sceptical  temptations  which  he  had  formerly  described 
to  me;  and  whether  he  had  been  lately  tried  by  the 
same  doubts  and  difficulties  in  respect  of  the  truth  of 
the  scriptures."  "Kever,"  he  replied,  ^'no,  never. 
From  the  time  to  which  you  allude,  I  have  felt  the  most 
perfect  reliance  on  the  word  of  God;  and  by  much 
reading  of  it,  and  praying  over  it,  I  have  been  so  con- 
firmed in  my  persuasion  of  its  divine  origin,  as  not  to 
have  had  my  confidence  once  shaken  since  that  period. 
I  have  been  tried  deeply  in  other  respects,  but  I  have 
never  again  varied  on  that  important  question.  The 
book  of  God,  by  God's  blessing  on  its  contents,  has 
proved  its  own  heavenly  character  to  my  understanding. 
HoAV  thankful  I  feel  for  this  " 

''  A  flush  of  hectic  fever  occasioned  at  this  moment  a 
short  period  of  debility,  and  he  paused  for  a  few  minutes. 

21* 


246       LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

He  soon  resumed  his  affecting  conversation,  and  said, 
^^I  am  not  ignorant  of  my  besetting  sin.  It  was  the 
pride  of  the  understanding.  I  always  loved  to  examine 
thoroughly  into  the  grounds  of  an  opinion  before  I 
received  it,  and  generally,  though  not  always,  to  be 
deliberate  in  coming  to  a  conclusion.  This  habit  has 
often  made  me  appear  over-confident  in  what  I  said 
and  I  know  you  have  felt  and  lamented  it.  I  do 
entreat  your  forgiveness  of  any  instance  of  this  folly 
which  has  hurt  and  grieved  you."  Then  he  added, 
"  The  recollection  of  it  has  greatly  humbled ;  I  trust  I 
have  seen  my  fault,  and  have  not  applied  in  vain  to  the 
blood  which  cleanseth  from  all  sin." 

"I  asked  him  what  had  been  his  views  of  the 
ministry,  in  case  God  had  spared  his  life.  He  replied, 
''You  know,  papa,  it  has  always  been  my  wish  and 
expectation  to  be  a  clergyman,  and  with  this  view  I 
have  sought  to  attain  various  kinds  of  literary  know- 
ledge. I  have  very  often  prayed  to  God  to  fit  me  for 
this  office,  and  I  have  thought  much  of  the  doctrines 
I  should  have  to  preach  to  others.  But  I  can  see  a 
reason  why  God  has  put  an  end  to  these  intentions  and 
prospects.  He  is  removing  me  out  of  this  life,  and  does 
not  permit  me  to  enter  into  the  ministry,  lest  I  should 
be  tempted,  from  the  peculiar  turn  of  my  mind,  to  seek 
the  honour  and  praise  of  men  in  my  ministrations,  more 
than  God's  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  sinners.  I  think 
I  can  see  both  wisdom  and  goodness  in  this  dispensa- 
tion." 

"  I  remarked  that  the  same  God  who  had  convinced 
him  of  his  danger,  could  have  humbled  his  heart  in  a 
variety  of  ways;  and  prepared  him  for  the  service  of 
the  sanctuary,  without  endangering  his  safety;  and 
doubtless  would  have  done  it  if  he  had  seen  good  to  have 
prolonged  his  life.  "Such  discoveries  of  your  own 
heart;  my  dear  boy,  are  evidences  not  only  of  what  God 


CONVEESATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.      247 

can  do,  but  a  pledge  of  what  lie  would  have  done  for 
you."  "True,  papa;  but  if  he  pleased  to  humble  me  in 
ike  valley  of  death,  may  it  not  be  safer  and  happier  for 
me  ?     The  Lord's  way  must  be  the  best  way." 

^'  He  then  adverted  to  another  subject.  "  I  have 
been  much  occupied  of  late,"  said  he  ''  in  thinking  of 
man's  natural  depravity,  and  the  deceitfulness  of  the 
human  heart.  I  have  discovered  in  it  many  things  in 
which  we  are"  apt  to  overlook  or  make  excuses  for  it. 
I  lim  sure  I  have  no  ground  of  hope*exoept  I  stand  with 
St.  Paul,  and  cry  out,  I  am  the  chief  of  sinners."  I 
referred  to  a  conversation  which  I  once  had  with  an 
individual,  who  objected  to  an  application  of  that  expres- 
sion to  himself,  and  said,  it  was  intended  only  to  describe 
the  peculiar  circumstances  of  St.  Paul.  ''Then  I  am 
sure,"  replied  Wilberforce,  ''that  person  could  not  have 
been  rightly  convicted  of  guilt  in  his  own  conscience.  I 
do  not  know  what  the  critic  may  say  on  such  a  passage, 
but  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  when  the  heart  is  opened  to 
itself,  the  expression,  chief  of  sinners,  will  not  appear  too 
strong  to  describe  its  character.  I  have  often  heard  you 
say,  papa,  that  the  view  'of  religion  which  most  honors 
God,  is  that  which  most  debases  the  sinner,  and  most 
exalts  the  Saviour.  I  never  felt  this  to  be  so  true  as  at 
the  present  moment." 

"His  pallid  but  intelligent  countenance,  as  he  said 
this  seemed  to  express  more  than  he  could  find  words 
to  utter.  He  paused  a  while,  and  continued,  "  What  a 
comfort  I  find  in  this  conversation  with  you !  It  is  such 
a  relief  to  my  mind  I  and  I  am  very  thankful  for  it."  My 
own  heart  was  too  responsive  to  that  of  my  beloved  child, 
not  to  re-echo  his  own  sentiments.  I  knelt  down  and 
returned  thanks  to  God,  for  the  consolation  afforded  to 
us  both,  and  prayed  earnestly  that  he  would  continue  to 
us  the  same  holy  interchange  of  kindred  spirit  and 
feeling. 


248        LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

"In  another  conversation,  my  dear  boy  expressed 
great  satisfaction  at  the  remembrance  of  the  preparation 
for  the  Lord's  Supper,  while  we  resided  in  the  Isle  of 
Bute  the  preceding  summer;  a  preparation  carried  on 
for  several  weeks  before  he  first  received  that  sacrament 
in  the  Episcopal  Chapel  of  Greenock.  He  observed  that 
in  his  daily  opportunities  of  reading  and  conversing 
with  me,  he  could  seldom  express  his  thoughts  with 
freedom,  though  he  deeply  felt  the  importance  of  the 
subject  before  us,  liut  "  I  shall  always  feel  thankful  to 
you,  papa,  for  the  diligent  and  affectionate  manner  in 
which  you  instructed  me.  I  love  that  book  of  Mason's, 
I  shall  never  forget  that  day  at  Greenock  Chapel.  I 
was  greatly  comforted.  You  preached  from  Isaiah  Iv.  1. 
''Ho!  every  one  that  thirst eth,  come  ye  to  the  waters: 
and  he  that  hath  no  money,  come  ye,  buy,  and  eat ;  yea, 
come,  buy  wine  and  milk ;  without  money  and  without 
price." — I  did  indeed  thirst  for  the  waters  of  salvation. 

Poor  Charlotte  B was  there  also.     Her  unexpected 

death  affected  me-  much." 

"What  Avere  your  thoughts,"  I  said,  "when  you 
wrote  those  lines  in  her  album  the  night  before  you 
parted  from  her."  "^ 

"I  thought  them,"  he  replied,  " very  suitable  to  my 
own  feelings;  but  I  little  thought  she  was  to  realize 
the  sentiment  before  I  did."  "She  has  joined  her  father 
in  a  better  world,"  I  said.  "Yes,  and  may  I  soon  be 
with  them ;  but  God  knows  best,  and  I  wish  to  commit 
myself  into  his  hands,  for  life  or  death."  He  then  sunk 
for  a  while  into  his  chair  and  dozed.  When  he  awoke  he 
began  again  to  converse.      "But  papa,   papa,   do   you 

*  It  matters  little  at  what  hour  of  day 
The  righteous  falls  asleep.     Death  cannot  come 
To  him  untimely  who  is  fit  to  die  j 
Tho  less  of  this  cold  world,  the  more  of  heaven; 
The  briefer  life,  tho  earlier  immortality. 

MiLLMAW. 


CONVE-RSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.      249 

indeed  think  I  am  on  tlie  right  foundation  ?  I  cannot 
bear  the  thought  of  being  deceived  ;  but  I  do  think 
(5hrist  loves  me  too  well  to  cast  me  away,  and  that  I 
may  say,  Faithful  is  he  that  has  promised,  ivho  also  will 
do  it.  I  love  God.  I  love  his  word.  I  love  his  ways. 
I  love  his  people,  though  I  feel  so  unworthy  to  be 
counted  one  of  them.  Surely  such  feelings  as  these  do 
not  fit  me  for  hell."  An  indescribable  look  of  anima- 
tion pervaded  his  countenance  as  he  uttered  these  words, 
and  bespoke  the  love,  faith,  hope,  and  sincerity  of  his 
heart,  too  plainly  to  be  mistaken. 

"If,"  he  continued,  "God  meant  to  destroy  me,  would 
he  have  shown  me  these  things?  " 

"I  am  persuaded  not,"  I  answered.  "Manoah's  wife 
has  proved  a  comforter  to  many,  and  I  rejoice  that  her 
argument  for  the  merciful  designs  of  God  prevails  with 
you." 

"I  am  now  fatigued,  and  must  go  to  bed,"  said  he, 
"  Pray  with  me,  and  then  good  night !  " 

"Having  the  assistance  of  a  much-valued  friend  to 
undertake  the  public  services  of  my  church,  and  feeling 
great  anxiety  to  avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  to 
devote  myself  to  my  son  in  his  critical  and  alarming 
state  of  health,  I  remained  at  home  with  him  the  whole 
of  the  next  day.  Although  much  oppressed  by  the 
rapidly-increasing  progress  of  disease  and  consequent 
debility,  yet  he  was  able  to  engage  in  some  interesting 
and  very  important  conversations  at  intervals  during  the 
day.  He  was  carried  into  the  study  about  eleven 
o'clock.  At  his  breakfast  he  expressed  a  hope  that 
there  were  many  now  engaged  in  prayer  for  him  in  the 
congregation  assembled  for  divine  service.  "I  should 
love  to  be  in  the  midst  of  them,  but  it  cannot  be  now. 
It  never  will  be  in  this  world.  What  a  comfortino: 
consideration,  papa,  that  wherever  two  or  three  are 
gathered  together  in  his  name,  Christ  has  promised  to 


250        LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

be  present  witli  them !  Do  you  think  he  is  here  ? " 
I  replied,  "  I  cannot  doubt  it,  mj  dear  boy.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  consolatory  views  of  the  word  of  God,  not 
only  that  he  is  constantly  present  with  every  individual 
believer,  in  every  place,  and  under  every  circumstance, 
but  he  is  also  especially  present'  with  all  such,  however, 
great  or  small  their  number,  who  unite  together  in  acts 
of  worship  and  religious  intercourse.  He  is  alike  pre- 
sent at  this  time  with  our  friends  in  the  church,  and  with 
you  and  me  in  this  room.  May  God  give  us  grace  to 
realize  this  and  be  thankful." 

"Soon  afterwards,  while  the  servant  was  removing 
the  breakfast-things,  I  was  stirring  the  fire,  as  he  com- 
plained of  the  cold ;  and  a  short  silence  ensued.  He 
said  presently,  with  a  playful  smile,  ''I  was  thinking 
while  you  stirred  the  fire,  how  much  easier  it  is  to  rake 
the  ashes  from  the  grate,  than  to  get  rid  of  sin  from  the 
heart;"  and  then  relapsing  into  a  grave  look,  he  added 
"  how  often  the  ashes  of  sin  deaden  the  flame  of  religion 
in  the  heart!"  This  remark— -originating  in  an  appa- 
rently casual,  incident — led  to  a  close  conversation  on 
the  nature  of  sin,  and  the  difficulties  with  which  a 
Christian  has  to  contend  in  his  conflicts  with  indwelling 
and  inbred  corruption.  I  was  much  struck  with  his 
deep  acquaintance  with  the  exercises  of  his  own  heart, 
and  with  the  gospel  plan  of  salvation,  which  he  evinced 
as  he  continued  to  dwell  on  this  subject.  I  rejoiced  to 
observe  in  him  a  personal  and  a  practical  application 
of  the  grand  truths  of  revelation  to  his  own  heart ;  the 
result  of  much  prayer  and  meditation,  and  reading  of 
the  sacred  volume:  his  inmost  thoughts  were  thrown 
into  our  discourses,  which  manifested  a  power  and 
demonstration  of  the  Spirit  of  God  far  beyond  what  I 
ever  anticipated.  The  reserve  which  had  caused  me  so 
much  solicitude  was  entirely  removed.  With  a  sweet 
and  endearing  freedom  of  heart  and  tongue,  he  expressed 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.      251 

Limself  so  openly,  and  with  siicli  sincerity  as  filled  me 
with  gratitude,  and  rendered  me  for  a  moment*  insensible 
—  comparatively  insensible — to  the  pang  of  bereave- 
ment which  was  soon  to  be  undergone.  To  possess  such 
satisfactory  evidences  of  my  child  being  an  heir  of  glory, 
and  that  my  temporary  loss  would  prove  his  eternal  gain, 
and  the  hope  that  we  should  one  day  meet  in  the  presence 
of  God  to  part  no  more,  cheered  my  spirit  and  tranquil- 
lized my  mind,  under  an  affliction  otherwise  insupport- 
able. 

''I  was  making  a  reference  to  some  expressions  in 
the  seventh  chapter  of  the  epistle  to  the  Eomans,  on  the 
nature  and  character  of  St.  Paul's  own  experimental 
acquaintance  with  the  truths  which  he  enforced  on 
others,  when  I  was  summoned  to  join  my  other  children 
at  the  dinner  table.  I  told  him  my  absence  would 
allow  him  a  respite  from  the  fatigue  of  conversation; 
but  that  I  would  soon  return  to  him  and  resume  the 
subject,  and  begged  him  to  seek  repose  for  a  little  while 
in  his  own  arm-chair.  This  appeared  to  me  the-  more 
necessary,  as  I  had  observed  an  evident  and  painful 
struggle  between  the  debility  of  his  frame  and  the 
animation  of  his  thoughts.  The  hour  of  the  afternoon 
service  arriving,  I  returned  to  my  son,  whom  I  found 
with  the  Bible  opened  before  him.  He  looked  at  me 
with  a  smile,  and  said,  "Well,  papa,  I  have  not  been 
asleep,  I  have  been  otherwise  employed.  I  revived 
almost  as  soon  as  you  left  me,  and  as  I  wanted  to 
converse  with  you  on  the  epistle  to  the  Eomans,  I  have 
been  reading  through  the  first  eight  chapters,  whilst  you 
were  below,  in  order  that  I  might  have  this  subject  more 
clear  in  my  recollection."  I  was  surprised  and  pleased 
to  find  that  he  had  strength  sufficient  for  such  an  exer- 
tion, and  I  reflect  on  the  circumstance  with  greater 
interest,  as  this  was,  I  believe,  the  last  time  he  was  able 
to  read  at  all. 


252       LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

"He  observed  that  lie  had  purposely  stopped  at  the 
eighth  chapter, -because  the  apostle  had  there  seenied  to 
make  a  division  in  his  subject  and  argument.  "What 
a  beautiful  summary  of  doctrine  these  chapters  contain, 
papa !  I  have  thought  on  them  again  and  again.  St. 
Paul  lays  his  foundation  deep  in  the  corruption  of 
human  nature,  and  shows  so  plainly  that  neither  Jew 
nor  Gentile  has  any  hope  from  works,  but  only  from 
faith  in  Christ  Jesus.  I  have  found  great  comfort  from 
that  view  of  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  which  the 
apostle  declares  to  be  the  only  way  of  salvation.  There 
is, — there  can  be  no  other.  We  have  no  righteousness  of 
our  own — all  are  under  sin  —  every  mouth  must  be 
stopped,  and  all  the  world  become  guilty  before  God. 
I  have  been  at  times  perplexed  about  the  principle  of 
acceptance  with  God,  but  now  I  see  it  quite  clearly. 
With  what  earnestness  does  the  apostle  labour  to  prove 
the  vanity  of  all  human  dependance!  I  have  been 
thinking  as  I  read  these  chapters,  how  entirely  the  walk 
of  a  believer  depends  on  his  faith  in  Christ,  and  how 
closely  connected  the  holiness,  and  the  comfort,  and  the 
reliance  of  the  soul  are  with  each  other.  He  proceeded 
to  comment  on  the  fifth  and  sixth  chapters,  as  a  train 
of  experimental  and  practical  reasoning  deduced  from 
those  which  preceded  them :  adding,  "  but  the  seventh 
and  eighth  chapters  have  been  my  delight.  I  have 
found  my  own  case  so  exactly  and  so  clearly  described 
in  the  seventh,  and  have  been  so  much  comforted  by 
St.  Paul's  description  of  his  own  feelings  about  sin  and 
Christ,  as  I  can  never  express.  And  then  the  eighth 
crowns  the  whole.  Oh,  what  a  chapter  is  that !  Every 
word  has  given  me  instruction,  strength  and  comfort." 
I  hear  said,  "  And  can  you  make  an  inward  application 
of  the  latter  part  of  that  chapter  to  yourself?  "  "In- 
deed, papa,  I  hope  I  am  not  deceiving  myself,  but  I  do 
think  I  can.     It  lifts  me  up  with  such  hope  and  con- 


CONVEESATIONS    WITH    HIS    FATHER.      253 

fidence,  tlie  language  is  so  sublime,  and  tlie  doctrine  so 
convincing.  It  sometimes  seems  too  much  for  a  sinner 
like  me  to  say  ; — but  all  tilings  are  possible  with  God, 
and  he  whom  God  saves,  has  a  proprieUj  in  all  things." 
He  then  went  through  the  whole  subject  of  the  chapter, 
making  a  variety  of  sensible  and  solid  remarks  upon  it, 
and  intreating  me  to  examine  him  as  to  his  personal 
application  of  these  glorious  and  gracious  truths  to  his 
own  heart.  After  he  had  made  some  animated  observa- 
tions on  the  concluding  part  of  this  chapter,  he  said, 
''But  now  I  want  to  add  one  sentence  from  another 
part  of  the  epistle,  to  wind  up  the  whole,  and  that  is, 
''  Oh !  the  depths  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and 
knowledge  of  God !  how  unsearchable  are  his  judgments, 
and  his  ways  past  finding  out  1  For  who  has  known 
the  mind  of  the  Lord?  or  who  hath  been  his  counsellor? 
or  who  hath  first  given  to  him,  and  it  shall  be  recom- 
pensed to  him  again.  For  of  him,  and  through  him, 
and  to  him  are  all  things,  to  whom  be  glory  for  ever. 
Amen."  I  shall  ever  retain  a  vivid  recollection  of  the 
tone  of  his  voice,  and  the  sparkling  look  of  his  eye, 
which  accompanied  the  utterance  of  these  words.  He 
became  immediately  much  exhausted — the  difficulty  of 
breathing  increased — the  fever  ran  very  high — he  bent 
over  the  table  and  fell  into  a  dose,  which  lasted  half  an 
hour..  He  gradually  awoke,  and  I  observed  him  to  fix 
his  eyes  on  a  globe  of  water  which  stood  near  the 
window,  and  contained  a  gold  fish.  I  enquired  what  ha 
was  looking  at  so  earnestly  ?  He  replied,  "  T  have  often 
watched  the  mechanical  motion  of  our  gold  and  silver 
fish  in  that  globe.  There  is  now  only  one  left,  and  that 
seems  to  be  weak  and  sickly.  I  wonder  which  of  us  will 
live  the  longest — the  fish  or  I?"  He  paused,  and  then 
added,  "  That  fish,  my  dear  papa,  is  supported  by  the 
water  in  the  vessel,  but  I  hope  I  am  supported  by  the 
waters  of  salvation.     The  fish  will  soon  die,  and  live  no 

22 


264         LIFE     OF    WILBERFORCE     RICH  MO  XD. 

more ;  but  if  I  am  upheld  by  the  v^ater  of  salvation,  I 
shall  live  for  ever." 

"  His  remark  led  me  to  make  some  observations  on  tbe 
practical  use  wbicli  may  be  made  of  natural  objects,  and 
the  advantages  of  cultivating  a  habit  of  seeing  something 
of  God  and  the  soul  everywhere,  and  of  accustoming  the 
mind  to  seek  such  comparisons  and  allusions  as  tend  to 
improve  and  delight  it.  Wilberforce  observed,  "  This  is 
the  very  principle  exemplified  in  our  Lord's  parables, 
and  in  all  the  figurative  language  of  scripture."  At  this 
moment  a  gleam  of  light  from  the  setting  sun  shone  upon 
the  gold  fish,  and  produced  a  brilliant  reflection  from  its 
scales,  as  it  swam  in  the  glass  vessel.  ''Look,"  said  he, 
"  at  its  beauty  now."  ''  So,  my  dear  boy,  may  a  bright 
and  more  glorious  sun  shine  upon  you,  and  gild  the 
evening  of  your  days!"  ''I  hope — "  he  replied,  ''al- 
though I  sometimes  feel  a  cloud  and  a  doubt  pass  across 
my  mind, — that  in  the  evening- time  there  shall  be  light; 
and  then  in  his  light,  I  shall  see  light.'-' 

"Thus  the  gold  fish  furnished  us  with  a  kind  of 
parable.  It  so  happened  that  the  fish  survived  my  son 
two  or  three  weeks;  but  I  never  afterwards  saw  it 
without  a  lively  recollection  of  the  conversation  to  which 
it  gave  rise ;  and  the  ideas  associated  with  it  still  mingle 
with  the  cherished  moments  of  his  latter  end." 


CLOSING    SCENES.  255 


CHAPTER    yill. 

How  calm  the  rest ! 
Night  dews  fall  not  more  gently  to  the  ground, 
Nor  weary  worn  out  winds  expire  so  soft.' 


Blaik. 


"  From. this  time  my  brotlier  kept  liis  room,  being  too 
weak  to  be  removed  to  the  study.  He  sat  up  during  a 
part  of  the  day  in  Ms  arm-chair,  and  conversed  with  his 
father  in  the  same  strain  of  elevated  piety.  His  mind 
was  at  times  strong  and  vigorous,  full  of  faith,  rejoicing 
in  thQ  prospect  of  death,  his  heart  trusting  in  God, — 
then  trembling  and  leaning  on  his  spiritual  guide,  who 
watched  over  him  with  the  overflowings  of  tenderness, 
gratitude  and  love,  while  his  dying  son  besought  him  to 
probe  his  inmost  soul.  My  father,  when  with  us,  usually 
preserved  a  dignified  composure;  speaking  little,  and 
with  tears ;  pouring  forth  his  soul  in  the  family  devo- 
tions ;  and  seeming  to  say,  '  He  will  soon  leave  me,  but 
blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord ! ' 

"  I  returned  to  Turvey  on  the  10th  of  January.  My 
father  met  me  in  the  hall.  He  wept  much  as  he  told  me 
there  was  no  hope  of  Willy's  life ;  but  he  soon  recovered 
himself,  and  said  that  the  agony  of  bereavement"  was 
forgotten  in  the  blessed  thought,  that  he  had  trained  up 
a  child  for  glory.  He  then  took  me  up  stairs,  where  I 
found  the  dear  invalid  in  a  chair  before  the  fire,  looking 
very  pale  and  emaciated,  but  with  a  countenance  full  of 
peace  and  love.  His  eye  glistened  as  I  entered.  He 
leaned  his  head  on  my  shoulder,  but  was  too  deeply 
moved  to  utter  a  word.     He  continued  silent  a  lonsj  thue, 


256       LIFE     OF     WILBERFOECE    EICIIMOND. 

and  scarcely  spoke  or  answered  tlie  usual  inquiries  of 
affection,  In  the  evening  lie  revived,  and  seemed  dis- 
posed to  converse.  I  asked  if  he  could  view  the  approach 
of  death  without  fear  ? 

"  Yes,  dear  F ,  I  have  no  wish  to  stay  one  day 

longer  on  earth,  but  I  must  not  be  impatient.  Lord 
Jesus    come  quickly!  if  it  be  thy  will.     I  would  not 

ling(^  here,  but  I  pray  for  patience.     Ah!  F ,  how 

I  long  to  be  free  from  this  poor  body,  and  see  my 
Saviour's  face.  You  can  never  know  how  I  long  for 
this,  till  you  also  have  heaven  in  view,  I  know  in 
whom  I  have  trusted.  He  will  save  me;  for  he  has 
promised,  and  he  never  changes."  He  then  fell  into  a 
kind  of  stupor,  murmuring  distinctly,  ''  Christ !  the 
sinner's  hope."  When  he  awoke,  the  fever  was  very 
high,  and  his  mind  seemed  to  wander.  My  father 
entered.  He  looked  up  and  said,  "  He  fights  hard,  and 
I  fight  hard,  but  Christ  fights  harder."  He  began  to 
pray  aloud,  struggling  for  strength  and  thought,  and 
entreating  Grod  that  he  might  not  be  given  up  to  delirium, 
of  which,  he  had  a  great  dread ;  and  then  he  praised  and 
blessed  God  for  giving  him  strength  to  offer  another 
prayer. 

"  I  sat  up  with  him  the  greater  part  of  the  night.  He 
once  startled  me  by  the  energy  with  which,  after  a  long 
silence,  he  cried  out,  "  I  know  in  whom  I  am  trusting. 
I  know  he  never  yet  left  one  soul  that  trusted  in  him.  I 
will  not  doubt."  He  passed  a  painful  night,  with  alter- 
nate fits  of  fever  and  shivering.  He  continually  expressed 
a  fear  that  the  fever  would  occasion  delirium.  He  felt 
his  time  so  precious,  that  he  could  not  bear  to  lose  a 
moment  by  insensibility ;  he  exclaimed  with  the  utmost 
vehemence,  ^'0  God!  most  merciful;  —  0  God!  do  not 
afflict  me  with  the  greatest  of  all  evils, — insanity.  I 
long  to  glorify  thee  in  my  death.     Can  I  glorify  thee  in 


CLOSING    SCENES.  257 

delirinm,  when  I  know  tliee  not  ?  Yet  not  my  will  but 
thine  be  done." 

"  Abont  five  o'clock  on  "Wednesday  morning  lie  said, 
"  N.ow  call  np  papa,  and  ask  him  to  come  and  talk  with 
me.  I  feel  as  if  I  should  have  much  to  suffer  to-day, 
and  I  want  him  here  that  I  may  call  up  some  comfort 
and  strength."  He  came  immediately.  I  retired  and 
did  not  hear  their  conversation.  My  father  has  more 
than  once  told  me  of  the  interesting  subjects  of  their 
discourse,  but  I  am  afraid  to  trust  to  recollection  at  this 
distance  of  time.  I  again  regret  that  my  beloved  father 
did  not  live  to  fulfil  his  own  intentions.  I  extract  from 
his  very  imperfect  notes,  what  may  possibly  apply  to 
their  present  interview. 

"I  read  the  account  of  Hooker's  death  to  him — 
substantial  calm  on  his  mind,  only  interrupted  for  the 
moment  by  disease — he  told  me  of  his  grapplings  with 
infidel  objections — of  his  weeping  when  a  little  child,  at 
a  sermon  I  preached  from  Jeremiah. "  * 

''After  breakfast  I  returned  to  relieve  my  father,  who, 
amidst  his  daily  sufferings,  was  not  unmindful  of  his 
family  or  his  parish.  "I  must  work  while  it  is  called  to- 
day,^^  seemed  to  be  the  prevailing  sentiment  of  his  mind, 
and  his  beloved  child's  approach  to  death  gave  additional 
weight  to  the  admonition,  "what  thou.doest,  do  it  with 
all  thy  might." 

'' Wilberforce  sat  silent  for  some  time,  then  looked 
up  and  said.  Come,  and  sit  close  to  me.  Let  me  lean 
on  you.  Then  putting  his  arms  round  me,  he  exclaimed, 
"God  bless  you,  my  dear!" — he  was.  agitated,  and 
ceased  speaking.  Presently,  he  said — "I  must  leave 
you — we  shall  walk  no  further  through  this  world 
together — but  I  hope  we  shall  meet  in  heaven.     Let  us 

*  Jer.  iii.  22.  "  Return  !  thou  backsliding  Israel,  saith  the  Lord,  and  I  will 
not  cause  mine  anger  to  foil  upon  you :  for  I  am  merciful,  saith  the  Lord,  and 
I  will  not  keep  mine  anger  for  ever." 

22* 


258  LIFE     OF    WILBERFOKCE     EICilMOND. 

now  talk  of  heaven.     Do  not  weep  for  me  dear  F- 


do  not  weep,  for  I  am  very  happy,  but  think  of  me, 
•and  let  the  thought  make  you  press  forward.  I  never 
knew  happiness  till  I  knew  Christ  as  a  Saviour."  He 
then  exhorted  and  encouraged  me  to  study  the  Bible 
with  perseverance.  ''Eead  the  Bible  —  read  the  Bible. 
Let  no  religious  book  take  its  place;  — through  all  my 
perplexities  and  distresses,  I  never  read  any  other  book, 
and  I  never  felt  the  want  of  any  other.  It  has  been  my 
hourly  study,  and  all  my  knowledge  of  the  doctrines, 
and  all  my  acquaintance  with  the  experience  and 
realities  of  religion,  has  been  derived  from  the  Bible 
only.  I  think  religious  people  do  not  read  the  Bible 
enough.  Books  about  religion  may  be  useful,  but  they 
will  not  do  instead  of  the  simple  truth  of  the  Bible." 
He  then  spoke  of  his  regret  at  parting  with  us.  ''  No- 
thing convinces  me  more  of  the  reality  of  the  change 
within  me,  than  the  feelings  with  which  I  can  con- 
template a  separation  from  my  fjimily.  I  now  feel  so 
weaned  from  the  earth,  my  affections  so  much  in  heaven, 
that  I  can  leave  you  all  without  a  regret.  Yet  I  do  not 
love  you  less,  but  God  more."  I  asked  him  whether 
his  mind  had  been  distressed  for  the  last  few  months  at 
the  thought  of  parting  from  us ;  for  knowing  the  strength 
of  his  affections,.!  fancied  he  must  have  suffered  much 
in   subduing  and   controlling  them.      ''  Oh  I    my   dear 

r ,  the  pain,  the  agony  I  have  felt,  when  I  said  to 

myself,  '  I  must  leave  them  all.'  You  will  never  know 
what  bitter  hours  I  have  passed :  none  but  God  knows 
what  it  cost  me  to  break  those  ties  which  bound  me  so 
strongly  to  earth.  Never,  never  will  you  know  what 
I  suffered,  as  I  looked  at  you  all,  and  felt  my  strength 
declining,  and  remembered  it  must  soon  be  a  last  look. 
I  thought  this  must  be  the  bitterness  of  death;  and 
even  after  I  had  found  acceptance  and  peace  with  God, 
I  still  suffered  deeply  in  the  prospect  of  separation,  and 


CLOSING     SCENES.  259 

never  supposed  I  could  willingly  part  from  my  family. 
I  knew  that  God  would  support  me,  and  carry  me 
through  this  trial ;  but  a  trial  I  felt  it  must  be  to  the 
last :  and  yet,  see  me  now  in  the  immediate  prospect 
of  parting — I  am  quite  happy,  and  can  leave  you  all 
without  a  tear  —  I  know  God  can  nnite  ns  all  again  — 
and  I  can  trust  him  here  as  I  can  in  everything  else. 
Now  this  change  must  have  been  effected  by  God.  It 
is  so  evident,  I  can  not  mistake  it.  I  could  not  have 
acquired  this  composure  myself.  God  has  done  it,  but 
I  have  suffered  much  in  the  process."  He  always  ap- 
peared comforted  when  he  heard  that  any  one  had 
prayed  for  him,  and  frequently  entreated  those  about 
him  to  pray;  but  he  used  to  add,  "Do  not  pray  for 
my  life,  but  that  I  may  have  comfort  in  death."     I  was 

writing  to  W ,  and  asked  him  if  he  had  any  message 

to  send.  He  said,  "  They  have  been  very  kind  to  me, 
but  I  am  too  ill  to  think  of  them."  Afterwards, 
seeming  to  recollect  himself,  he  said,  "Come  and  hold 
my  head  while  I  try  to  remember  them.     I  would  send 

some  message.     Tell  dear   M that  I  am  sufiering 

very  much,  but  I  can  and  do  rejoice  in  my  sufferings ; 
for  evpry  pain  is  bringing  me  nearer  to  heaven.  I  shall 
not  see  her  again  in  this  world ; "  here  he  sedftied  quite 
exhausted.     After  a  while  he  revived  a  little.     "I  want 

to  say  something   to   dear  Mr. ;   you  told  me  he 

had  been  praying  for  me.  I  wish  him  to  know  how 
much  I  have  been  comforted  by  this.  How  grateful 
I  feel  to  him ! '  tell  him  how  much  I  value  his  prayers, 
and  that  they  have  been  answered;  for  Christ  is  now 
precious  to  me.  Through  him  the  fear  of  death  is 
taken  away.  I  want  to  tell  him  more.  If  I  can  I 
will  to-morrow,  but  say  this  — "  He  now  became  ex- 
ceedingly ill;  he  breathed  with  great  difl&culty;  he 
panted  for  breath,  and  his  struggles  were  distressing. 
The  sufferings  of  his  body  affected  his  mind,   and  he 


260        LIFE    or    WILBERFOECE    EICHMOND. 

seemed  to  lose  his  comfort  and  confidence  in  Christ. 
He  cried  out  many  times,  "Oh!  pray  for  me,  pray 
for  me,  pray  for  me.  This  is  hard  to  bear;  how  dif- 
ferent the  pains  of  death  are  to  any  other !  It  is  such 
a  struggle  to  get  free."  He  appeared  to  suffer  much  in 
his  mind.  My  father  said,  "My  dear  boy,  Christ  is 
still  with  you.  When  he  once  fixes  his  love,  he  never 
takes  it  away.  You  may  not  see  him  just  now, 
but  he  is  not  the  less  near  to  you.  Nothing  can, 
nothing  shall  separate  you  from  Christ."  Willy  cried 
out,  "And  did  he  not  say,  ^My  God,  my  God,  why 
hast  thou  forsaken  me  ? ' "  Then  he  twice  repeated, 
"For  a  small  moment  I  have  forsaken  thee,  but  with 
great  mercies  will  I  gather  thee."  "Oh!  papa! — what 
shall  I  do — I  am  suffering  so  very  much?"  "JSTot 
one  pang  too  many,  my  child,"  said  his  weeping  father, 
while  the  big  tears  rolled  down  his  cheek.  "  I  know 
it,  papa,"  he  answered:  "I  believe  it,  I  feel  it."  He 
continued  in  a  state  of  suffering  nearly  the  whole  day. 
Towards  evening  he  sunk  into  a  sort  of  lethargy.  He 
seemed  scarcely  to  know  any  thing  that  was  passing. 
About  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  my  father  read  the  23rd 
Psalm,  and  prayed  with  him.  He  was  able  to  at- 
tend, and" it  seemed  to  cheer  him.  He  was  better  in  the 
morning,  and  had  much  comfortable  conversation  with 

his   father   throughout   the  day.      Mr.   G came   to 

see  him.  Willy  wished  to  converse  with  him.  He 
was  fearful  at  first,  and  expressed  some  doubt  of  his 
salvation:  but  Mr.  G encouraged  him  by  his  re- 
marks. He  assured  him  that  Christ  would  never  give 
up  a  soul  who  had  fled  to  him  for  refuge.  Here  Willy, 
interrupted  him,  "I  believe  it,  yes,  I  believe  it. 
Christ  has  brought  me  thus  far,  and  he  will  not  leave 
me.  He  has  said,  "Whosoever  cometh  unto  me,  I 
will  in  no  icise  cast  out."  I  feel  now  quite  certain  that 
Christ  will  save  me."     He  then  adverted  to  his  love  for 


CONVEKSATIONS    WITH     HIS     FAMILY.      261 

US,  and  the  parting  with  us.  ''  We  have  been  a  happy 
family; — so  closely  united!  Every  two  of  us  can  say, 
how  dearly  we  love  each  other — our  love  has  been  more 
than  common — I  think  we  shall  be  a  family  of  love  in 
heaven — two  of  us  are  in  heaven  already,  and  there  will 
soon  be  a  third  —  Oh!  I  feel  persuaded  we  shall  meet 

again."     Mr.  Gr proposed  to  read  a  chapter  in  the 

Bible.    Willy  said  he  could  listen,  and  Mr.  Gr chose 

parts  of  the  two  last  chapters  of  the  book  of  Eevelation. 
He  appeared  greatly  refreshed.  His  face  beamed  with 
joy  while  he  listened  to  the  sublime  and  glorious  descrip- 
tion of  the  new  Jerusalem,  and  anticipated  the  moment 
of  his  own.  entrance  into  the  holy  city,  to  go  out  no 
more  for  ever ;  when  he  should  join  the  melody  of  the 
heavenly  choir,  and  make  one  of  the  countless  throng 
before  the  throne  of  God.  "  Glorious  things  are  spoken 
of  thee,  0  city  of  God."     After  a  short  pause,  he  said  to 

Mr.  G ,  ''  Tell  me  about  the  soug  of  Moses  and  the 

Lamb,  my  memory  is  failing.     Eepeat  it  to  me."     Mr. 

G repeated  from  Eev.  xv.,   "  Great  and  marvellous 

are  thy  works,  Lord  God  Almighty ;  just  and  true  are 
thy  ways,  0  King  of  saints ;  who  shall  not  fear  thee,  O 
Lord,  and  glorify  thy  name,  for  thou  only  art  holy ;  for 
all  nations  shall  come  and  worship  before  thee,  for  thy 
judgments  are  made  manifest." 

^'  Mr.  G took  leave  of  him,  and  sometime  after  his 

departure,  Willy  said,  "  Mr.  G seemed  sent  to  bring 

the  close  of  the  Bible  to  be  the  consolation  of  my  life. 
It  is  singular  that  he  should  have  fixed  on  those  chapters, 
for  I  have  read  them  so  often ;  again  and  again  in  my 
hours  of  sorrow ;  longing,  praying,  but  not  daring  to 
believe  I  should  ever  be  admitted  to  that  glorious  com- 
pany ;  how  have  I  wept  over  them  ! " 

"  Mr.  F paid  him  a  visit,  and  Wilberforce  was 

very  earnest  in  pressing  him  to  examine  the  state  of  his 
mind,  saying,  "I  would  neither  deceive  nor  be  deceived." 


262      LIFE    OF    WILBEEFOECE    EICHMOND. 

Mr.  F replied,  "  You  are  now  too  much  exhausted 

for  conversation  ;  I  have  heard  from  your  papa  the  state 
of  your  mind,  and  I  am  quite  satisfied  with  his  opinion 
of  you :  for  our  ideas  of  true  conversion  are  the  same." 
^'  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but  I  would  rather  you  should  exam- 
ine me  for  yourself, —  I  want  you  also  to  search  me." 

"He  asked  Mr.  F whether  the  feeling  of  assurance 

was  necessary  to  salvation.  "I  do  not,"  he  said,  ''always 
feel  alike ;  sometimes  when  illness  overpowers  me,  my 
comfort  is  gone,  and  I  am  afraid  that  after  all  I  shall 
perish ;  but  I  know  that  in  my  darkest  season  I  still  love 
my  Saviour  above  everything." 

"  My  dear  Wilberforce,"  said  Mr.  F ,  "  you  can- 
not have  a  more  able  counsellor  in  your  perplexities, 
than  your  affectionate  father,  and  your  very  weak  state 
inclines  me  to  be  brief.  Our  religion  may  be  explained 
in  a  few  words,  as  least  as  far  as  it  is  necessary  to  your 
peace  and  safety.  You  must  have  a  title  to  heaven,  and 
a  meetness  for  its  enjoyment ;  you  need  not  now  trouble 
yourself  on  other  points.  The  title  is  Christ's  merits. 
Do  you  rest  on  them  alone  for  acceptance  with  God? " 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  have  no  other  hope  or  trust.  If  I  have 
confidence  or  comfort,  I  get  it  only  there!"  ''AYell, 
then,  the  next  thing  is  a  meetness  for  heaven.  If  any 
man  belong  to  Christ  he  has  the  mind  of  Christ ;  he  is 
a  new  creature  ;  religion  is  his  life  as  well  as  his  peace." 
"Indeed,  indeed,"  he  replied,  "I  do  love  Christ;  I  long 
to  be  where  he  is,  to  dwell  with  him  for  ever."  "  Then 
all  is  safe,  Wilberforce  ;  I  am  quite  satisfied  that  he  who 
has  worked  the  one  in  you,  has  procured  the  other  for 

you."     "  But  your  eye,  Mr.  F ,  your  eye  looks  as  if 

it  doubted  (5f  me."  "l^o,  my  dear  Wilberforce,  I  am  not 
doubting,  I  am  looking  on  you  with  deep  interest." 

"  Mr.  F went  away  with  a  promise   to  see  him 

again  in  a  few  days;  but  my  brother  died  before  the 
time  fixed  for  another  visit. 


CONVEESATIONS    WITH    HIS    FAMILY.      263 

"  He  slept  for  some  time,  and  .then  suddenly  sat  up  in 
his  cliair  with  apparent  ease ;  he  breathed  freely,  spoke 
distinctly,  seemed  free  from  pain,  and  his  countenance 
looked  satisfied  and  happy.  I  was  quite  surprised  at  the 
change,  and  said,  "My  dear  Willy,  you  seem  much 
better."  "Yes,"  he  answered,  "I  am  much  better. 
This  is  a  precious  moment,  and  now  I  hope  I  shall 
be  able   to   talk   to   you  a  little.     This  is  an  answer 

to  prayer,  dear  F .     I  have  much  longed  to  glorify 

God  in  my  death,  and  ever  since  last  Sunday  I  have 
been  praying  for  one  hour  of  ease  and  strength  to  speak 
to  you  all  for  the  last  time,  and  tell  you  what  I  now 
think  of  the  importance  of  religion.  Hitherto  you  have 
seen  me  so  overpowered  by  disease,  that  you  could  not 
judge  of  my  comfort  and  confidence  in  my  principles. 
But  God  has  granted  my  request,  and  I  will  glorify 
him."  He  then  began  an  interesting  conversation,  and 
spoke  with  astonishing  ease.  He  was  very  plain  and 
sincere.  He  told  me  kindly  of  faults  and  errors  which 
he  had  observed  in  me ;  and  he  endeavoured  to  correct 
them,  and  encouraged  me  from  his  own  experience  to 
persevere  in   striving   against  them.      "  My  dear,    my 

very  dear  F ^,"  he  said,  "  I  hope  we  shall  meet  in 

heaven.  I  could  not  talk  to  you  in  this  calm  manner, 
if  I. did  not  believe  we  should  meet  again.  But  you 
have  much  to  learn — much  to  do  before  you  can  get 
there.  There  is  but  one  road,  and  without  an  entire 
dedication  of  the  heart  to  God,  you  cannot  walk  in  it.'' 
He  spoke  of  the  dangers  of  a  religious  education ;  of 
having  the  form  of  religion,  while  the  heart  was  still 
unchanged,  and  the  will  u.nsubdued.  He  spoke  also  of 
what  he  called  sentimental  religion,  telling  me  how  easy 
it  was  to  write  in  beautiful  poetical  language  without 
any  real  feeling  of  heart ;  and  he  mentioned  some  in- 
stances where  religion  was  but  a  bright  fiction  of  the 
imagination ;  and  others  where  it  proved  itself  a  trans- 


264:       LIFE    OF    WILBERFOECE    RICHMOND. 

forming  principle  in  the  life  and  conduct.  "My  dear 
sister,  be  a  real  disciple  —  be  in  earnest  —  you  will  want 
/iear^religion  when  you  come  to  die  —  the  poetry  of 
religion  will  not  do  then  ; " —  reminding  me  of  some 
letters  I  had  written  to  him.  He  again  recommended 
to  me  most  earnestly  the  constant  study  of  the  Bible. 
"Here,"  he  said,  "I  speak  in  a  peculiar  manner  from 
recent  experience — for  the  last  three  months  the  Bible 
has  been  my  sole  instructor  —  it  has  gradually  led  me  on 
to  clear  light  and  real  experience,  till  every  promise  is 
my  own.  I  have  read  the  greater  part  of  it  through, 
several  times  during  my  illness ;  and  often  on  a  Sunday, 
when  I  have  spent  the  day  alone,  I  have  read  the  whole 
of  the  New  Testament,  unable  to  leave  off  till  I  had 
grasped  all  the  mind  of  the  Spirit  at  once.  Perhaps 
papa  has  thought  I  read  too  few  religious  books — he 
has  looked  anxious  at  my  neglect  of  many  he  put  in  my 
way  —  I  do  not  give  myself  in  this  respect  for  an  exam- 
ple— but  I  have  found  little  benefit  from  books,  sermons, 
or  conversations.  The  Bible,  the  Bible  alone  has  taught 
me  everything.  If  I  read  books  on  religion,  however 
excellent,  the  thought  always  haunted  me — this  is  hu- 
man— it  may  be  wrong.  I  could  not  rest  till  I  went  to 
the  Bible.  Here  I  felt  sure  that  all  was  divine  and 
infallible ;  and  I  found  such  comfort  in  the  simple  truth 
of  God's  word,  that  I  set  aside  every  other  book,  dissatis- 
fied. I  may  well  be  earnest,  then,  in  pressing  you  to  go 
to  the  Bible." 

"He  then  said,  "But  you  must  pray  over  the  Bible; 
— without  the  teaching  of  the  Spirit  it  will  do  you  no 
good :  you  must  apply  it  as_  you  go  on  to  yourself,  and 
feel  it  personally,  or  you  will  get  no  benefit,  though  you 
stand  the  whole  day  over  it.  I  have  been  in  the  habit 
of  reading  the  Bible  on  my  knees,  and  I  recommend  you 
to  do  the  same.  It  encourages  prayer.  I  have  found 
it  very  useful  to  turn  Scripture  into  prayer,  using  the 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FAMILY.      265 

very  words.  There  is  not  a  psalm  I  have  not  turned 
into  a  prayer.  I  have  felt  so  safe  in  making  prayers 
from  the  Bible^  because  then  I  knew  I  could  not  err; 
and  let  prayer  always  be  preceded  by  self-examination ; 
lay  your  heart  bare  before  God :  indulge  not  even  a 
doubtful  feeling ;  one  secret  sin  would  cloud  all." 

'^  I  had  marked  the  depression  of  his  spirit  when  the 
symptoms  of  his  disease  appeared  more  unfavourable; 
and  I  asked  him  if  he  had  any  fear  of  death  now.  He 
answered  me  with  great  firmness, —  "No,  not  any  —  I 
have  unshaken  confidence  in  Jesus  as  a  Saviour — he  has 
taken  away  the  sting  of  death,  and  for  his  sake  the 
Father  will  receive  me  as  his  child."  I  replied,  ''  You 
had,  dear  Willy,  great  doubts  of  your  salvation,  and 
many  fears  of  death  during  some  periods  of  your  ill- 
ness." '^Oh,  yes;  indeed  I  had!  I  have  been  on  the 
verge  of  despair,  and  have  laiown  its  agonies.  My  pain 
of  body  was  at  times  very  great,  but  nothing  in  com- 
parison with  the  agony  of  my  spirit.  I  struggled  on  in 
darkness  and  in  silence.  It  was  known  only  to  myself 
and  God ;  but  I  was  sup,ported  and  carried  through  all, 
and  now  I  would  encourage  you,  my  dearest  sister,  by 
telling  you  what  succeeded  in  my  case.  T  will  tell  you 
just  what  I  did.  After  a  season  of  m\ich  doubt  and 
terror,  during  which  I  felt  as  if  all  was  delusion,  and  I 
should  be  cast  into  hell,  1  determined  to  go  at  once 
boldly  to  God,  in  the  name  of  Christ,  and  plead  the  pro- 
mises which  were  then  before  me  in  the  Bible.  I  fell 
down  upon  my  knees — I  groaned — I  wept  —  I  prayed 
most  fervently — I  said,  'Here  I  am,  Lord,  a  poor  perish- 
ing sinner  —  my  sins  are  heavy  and  alarming  —  I  cannot 
bear  them  myself — I  feel  my  body  decaying  —  I  must 
soon  die,  and  I  dare  not  appear  before  Thee,  the  pure 
and  holy  God,  as  I  now  am  —  I  read  of  a  Saviour  thou 
hast  provided  for  sinners,  and  I  come  to  him  to  be  saved 
from  eternal  death  —  I  come  to  the  cross  of  Christ  —  I 

23 


266         LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE     RICHMOND. 

cling  to  it  as  my  only  hope — if  tlaou,  0  Christ,  wilt  not 
save  me,  no  one  else  can,  and  I  must  perish  — Lord  save 
me  —  Jesus!  have  mercy  on  me  ! '  I  persevered  thus  again 
and  again  —  I  kept  on  praying  in  this  way  —  I  took  no- 
thing with  me  bat  a  broken  heart,  and  a  contrite  spirit, 
and  I  said,  '  Lord !  I  will  not  go  except  thou  bless  me.' 
I  know  I  prayed  sincerely,  and  I  was  heard  and  an- 
swered. I  foand  that  promise  true.  "  Whosoever  Com- 
eth unto  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  God  was  good 
to  me.  My  soul  required  severe  discipline;  but  he 
comforted  me  in  his  own  time  —  I  found  Christ  able  and 
willing  to  do  all  I  required — I  was  enabled  to  receive 
him  as  my  complete  salvation,  and  I  sometimes  had 
such  peace  in  believing  on  him, —  such  hours  of  unspeak- 
able happiness,  that  the  remembrance  of  it  makes  up 
for  all  this  suflPering.  I  never  again  lost  my  hope  in 
Christ,  though  for  the  moment  my  disease  overpowered 
me  and  clouded  the  past.  Now  I  tell  you  all  this  for 
your  encouragement  and  direction.  Seek  as  I  did,  and 
you  shall  find  the  same  pardon  for  sin,  the  same  peace 
in  death."  We  next  talked  about  prayer.  I  told  him 
of  the  difficulties  I  felt.     I  remember  well  his  eager  look, 

as  he  said,  ''  Not  find  comfort  in  prayer,  dear  F ! 

It  sounds  like  a  strange  contradiction  to  me  —  it  is  my 
only  comfort.  When  I  am  able  to  pray,  I  am  sure  to 
be  happy,  and  my  prayer  is,  that  I  may  have  strength 
and  sense  to  pray.  But  I  must  remember  how  differently 
we  are  circumstanced — I  am  just  entering  eternity — I 
see  everything  in  a  new  light,  as  I  never  did  before  —  as 
none  but  a  dying  person  can  see.  All  my  thoughts  and 
feelings  are  changed  —  I  have  not  memory  now  to  recol- 
lect how  I  used  to  feel,  when  I  first  began  to  pray  — 
perhaps  I  had  the  same  doubts —  my  memory  is  gone  — 
Oh !  how  the  Lord  has  humbled  me  —  I  used  to  be  so 
proud  of  my  understanding  —  I  can  now  scarcely  answer 
'ho  simplest  question."     Presently  he  seemed  to  gather 


CONVERSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FAMILY.      267 

strength,  and  said,  ''We  were  talking  about  prayer; 
yes,  all  my  comfort  is  in  prayer.  There  must  be  com- 
fort in  prayer  —  the  chief  thing  is  to  examine  your 
heart — ask  God  to  search  it  for  you — take  care  you  are 
cherishing  no  secret  sin  or  hidden  idol.  God  is  a  mer- 
ciful God ;  but  he  is  a  jealous  God,  and  he  will  have 
the  whole  heart.  Only  persevere  in  praying,  and  in- 
deed you  will  find  comfort  in  prayer."  He  then  told 
me  how  seriously  it  had  been  impressed  upon  his  mind, 
that  his  death  was  to  be  the  life  of  others.  ''  I  think, 
my  dearly  beloved  sister,  it  is  for  your  good ;  and  will 
not  this  thought  make  ypu  more  in  earnest?  Oh!  I 
would  die  ten  painful  deaths  to  save  one  soul!  We  shall 
meet  again  in  heaven.  JSTow  come  and  kiss  me  and  let 
me  lean  upon  you."     He  rested  a  short  time,  and  said, 

''  Now  send  for  H ,  I  want  to  speak  to  her  while  my 

strength  lasts."  His  conversation  with  her  was  very 
searching,  but  very  affectionate.  He  Joved  this  sister 
very  dearly.  She  was  naturally  volatile  and  buoyant 
in  her  spirits,  and  this  disposition  sometimes  betrayed 
her  into  levity.  The  liveliness  of  her  conversation  had 
often  pleased  him,  but  he  now  thought  he  had  encou- 
raged her  in  some  things  inconsistent  with  real  piety. 
He  was  earnest  beyond  his  strength  in  conversing  with 
her.  He  put  very  plain  and  close  questions:  — 
saying,  "  I  must  be  answered ;  I  must  speak  plainly ; 
I  am  afraid,  my  beloved  sister,  you  do  not  think  enough 
about  religion.  I  do  not  see  decided  proofs  of  real  con- 
version in  you.     I  have  not  a  sure  hope,  that  if  you  die 

as  you  now  are,  I  shall  meet  you  in  heaven.    Oh !  H 

it  is  my  last  request, —  with  my  dying  breath  I  am 
entreating  you  to  seek  the  salvation  of  your  soul.  Sup- 
pose you  were  in  my  place — in  this  chair  instead  of  me 
— waiting  for  death  day  by  day  —  could  you  meet  it  as 
I  do  ?  Oh  1  do,  my  dear  sister !  do  think  of  death  while 
you  are  in  health.  If  I  had  not  sought  Christ  before  I  was 


268      LIFE    OF    WILBEEFOKCE    KICHMOND. 

brought  so  low,  I  should  have  had  no  strength  or  sense 
to  seek  him  now.  I  went  to  Jesus  as  a  poor  weak  sin- 
ner, and  found  sweet  rest,  and  I  am  happy  now  amidst 
all  this  suffering."  He  spoke  in  a  very  affectionate 
manner  of  the  subject  nearest  her  heart.  "Your  merry 
peal  will  soon  succeed  my  death-knell.  Take  care  that 
the  good  seed  is  not  choaked  by  the  pleasures  of  life  I 

Seek  first  the   kingdom  of   God.     Kemember   H , 

you  have  to  die.  Oh  !  I  cannot  leave  you  in  peace,  unless 
I  have  good  hope  that  I  shall  meet  you  in  heaven. 
If  I  thought  there  was  one  amongst  you — oh!  I  cannot 

bear   that  thought!"     He  continued,  "H ,  there  is 

nothing  so  opposed  to  religion, — to  the  mind  of  Christ, 
as  levity  and  trifling.  It  will  keep  you  back  more  than 
anything.  Take  my  solemn  warning — I  speak  from  my 
own  experience, —  you  will  never  be  a  consistent  Chris- 
tian, and  you  will  never  grow  in  grace,  if  you  indulge 
in  habitual  trifling  conversation.  It  is  not  like  the  mind 
of  Christ;  your  temper  is  very  playful  and  volatile, 
and  Satan  may  use  it  as  a  snare  to  injure  your  souL 
Piety  and  levity  cannot  long  dwell  in  the  same  heart. 
One   will  destroy   the   other.      *     *     *     *     You  see, 

dear  H ,  I  am  very  plain  and  sincere.     I  used  to  be 

so  shy.  But  I  do  not  feel  afraid  of  speaking  my  mind 
now.  How  little  does  one  care  about  the  world  and  its 
opinions  when  death  is  near;  —  death  takes  away  all 
reserve.  I  care  not  if  the  whole  world  were  asssembled 
around  me  —  I  would  tell  them  what  I  now  think  of 
religion  —  I  should  like  to  see  many  here,  that  I  might 
tell  them  what  the  Lord  hath  done  for  my  soul."  He 
then  sent  for  H — '—,  his  favourite  brother  and  com- 
panion.    AVilly  was  much  affected.     He  seemed  to  say 

farewell   to   H with  deep  emotion.     He   entreated 

him  to  supply  his  place  in  everything  —  particularly  in 
being  a  comfort  to  his  father,  and  filling  his  place  in 
the  ministry.     On  this   latter  subject  he  spoke  much. 


OONVEKSATIONS    WITH    HIS    FAMILY.      269 

He  said^  "  From  a  child  it  has  been  my  delight  to  think 
of  being  a  clergyman  of  the  church  of  England ;  but  it 

is  God's  will  to  pass  me  by,  and  take  you,  dear  H , 

and  honour  you  thus.  I  resign  my  place  to  you ;  fill 
it   faithfully."      Then   turning   to   his   father,    he   said, 

"  Give  H a  double  portion  of  your  love.     He  is  to 

fill  my  place,  as  well  as  his  own,  to  you.  I  make  a 
transfer  to  him  of  all  the  affection  you  have  borne  to 
me."  He  paused  for  breath,  and, then  continued,  "We 
have  loved  each  other  very  dearly,  we  always  loved  as 
brothers  amidst  our  little  quarrels, —  did  we  not  ?  I  love 
you  now  more  than  ever,  and  I  must  talk  to  you  about 
your  souL"  He  addressed  him  in  very  plain  language 
asking  him  questions.  H seemed  confused  and  dis- 
tressed;   for   there   were   others   present.      Willy  said, 

"Poor  H ,  you  feel  shy  on  this  subject  —  I  used  to 

feel  the  same  once  —  I  could  not  speak  once,  but  that 
reserve  is  all  gone ;  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  what  I 
feel  now.     You  will  feel  as  I  do,  some  day."     He  1j|en 

begged  that  all   would  retire  and   leave  H alone 

with  him,  No  one  heard  the  conversation  which  passed 
between  them.  He  next  sent  for  his  younger  brothers  ; 
they  wept  much  as  he  addressed  them.  He  spoke  very 
touchingly  to  his  younger  sister,  who  was  then  a  little 
child  c  "  Would  you  like  to  meet  poor  Willy  in  heaven^ 
dear  C—  > — ,  then  you  must  love  God.  Pray  to  God  to 
make  you  love  him,  and  to  make  you  a  good  child,  a 
holy  child.    Will  you  promise  me  one  thing,  my  dear 

C ,  that  you  will  never  go  out  of  your  room  in  the 

morning  till  you  have  read  a  few  verses  in  the  Bible, 
and  prayed  to  God.  If  you  do  not  pray  to  God,  you 
will  not  meet  poor  Willy  in  heaven.  I  will  give  you  a 
verse  to  think  of  when  I  am  dead :  "  Suffer  little 
children  to  come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not,  for  of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Say  that  verse  to 
yourself  every  night  when  you  lie  down." 

23* 


270       LIFE     OF    WILBERFOKCE    RICHMOND. 

*'  He  sent  for  several  people  in  the  village  to  come 
and  bid  Mm  farewell.  There  was  one  old  person  for 
wliom  lie  had  a  special  regard.  She  had  been  much 
with  him  in  his  childhood,  and  he  used  to  tell  her,  "  if 
he  lived  to  be  a  man,  and  had  a  house  of  his  own,  she 
should  come  and  keep  it."  He  held  out  his  hand  to  her 
affectionately,  and,  alluding  to  his  promise,  said  "I 
shall  have  no  house  in  this  world,  Nanny,  for  you  to 
come  and  keep  — but  I  shall  still  have  a  house  —  a  house 
not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  His 
countenance  as  he  spoke  assumed  a  singularly  sweet 
and  happy  expression — such  a  beaming  look  of  love 
and  joy,  that  every  one  noticed  it.  The  hectic  flush 
glowed  on  his  cheek — his  eyes  sparkled  "^ith  a  peculiar 
lustre — and  the  marble  forehead  was  smooth  and  placid. 
It  was  the  parting  loveliness  of  a  body  irradiated  by  a 
soul  full  of  meekness,  calmness,  joy  and  confidence. 
Instead  of  being  exhausted  by  such  lengthened  conver- 
satibns,  as  we  expected,  he  seemed  full  of  vigour,  and 
rather  refreshed.  He  conversed  a  good  deal  with  both 
his  parents.  ''What  a  striking  answer,"  he  said,  "I 
have  had  to  prayer;  God  has  allowed  me  time  and 
strength  to  speak  to  you  all,  and  has  so  filled  me  with 
sweet  peace  and  joy,  that  I  never  could  have  conceived 
there  was  such  happiness  to  be  known  here."  He  then 
said,  "I  should  like  the  whole  family  to  assemble  round 
me,  that  I  may  look  at  you  altogether,  while  I  am  so 
happy.  He  then  offered  up  a  fervent  and  touching 
prayer  to  God,  blessing  him  for  his  great  goodness,  and 
commending  us  to  him  for  salvation.  He  paused  a 
moment,  and  concluded,  ''Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy 
servant  depart  in  peace ;  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy 
salvation." 

"  He  remained  in  this  happy  frame  of  mind  a  short 
time,  when  all  seemed  to  pass  away  as  a  dream;  the 
^ever    returned — great  suffering    succeeded — and  his 


CONVERSATIONS.  271 

whole  frame  was  agitated.  At  intervals  he  referred  to 
the.  past  season  of  happiness,  and  the  recollection  of  it 
comforted  him.  He  repeated  what  he  had  before  said, 
several  times,  ''I  would  go  through  all  again  for  one 
such  sweet  hour." 

"  In  the  evening  he  was  dejected  by  a  dread  of  deli- 
rium, and  prayed  earnestly  that  he  might  retain  his 
senses  to  the  last,  often  exclaiming,  "  I  cannot  glorify 
Thee  in  delirium."  He  called  this  a  happy  day, 
because  he  thought  he  had  done  good  by  his  faithful 
addresses. 

"  My  father  came  to  read  and  pray  with  him  before 
he  retired  to  rest.  Willy  said,  "  I  am  too  tired  to  listen. 
I  should  like  to  dream  of  the  past ;  papa,  there  will  be 
no  distraction  in  heaven." 

"Friday  was  a  mournful  day.  My  brother's  suffer- 
ings were  greatly  increased.  He  could  find  no  position 
in  which  to  rest.  He  breathed  with  difiiculty,  and  at 
times  seemed  almost  suffocated ;  and  the  soul,  as  if  in 
sympathy  ,with  the  body,  became  full  of  doubt  and 
terror.  He  called  out  in  great  agitation  —  "Oh!  pray 
for  me  —  pray  for  me  —  say  something  to  comfort  me." 
I  read  to  him  some  verses  from  the  forty-third  of  Isaiah. 
He  continued  to  exclaim, —  "  Oh  I  pray  for  me,  pray  for 
me  I  I  am  in  great  suffering."  I  opened  the  Annals 
of  the  Poor,  and  read  to  him  the  account  of  the  Dairy- 
man's Daughter's  last  hours.  He  listened  attentively, 
and  then  repeated  the  words,  "The  Lord  deals  very 
gently  with  me,  and  gives  me  peace.  It  is  not  dark, 
my  Lord  is  there,  and  he  is  my  light  and  salvation." 
He  appeared  a  little  more  composed,  and  I  turned  to 
the  tract  of  Little  Jane.  I  read  to  him  some  passages. 
"Ah I"  said  he,   "they  got  safe  through,  and  why  not 

I  ?     I  am   glad,    dear   F ,  that  you  thought  of  the 

Dairyman's  Daughter  and  Little  Jane.  They  are  just 
the  examples  I  want.     They  suffered  much,  but  it  v.  as 


272  LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICnMOND. 

not  dark  to  them.  Oh,  death!  death!  what  is,  it?  I 
have  still  to  go  through  death  —  the  dark  valley.  He 
sat  for  some  time  in  silence,  with  his  head  resting  on 
the  table.  Though  he  did  not  speak,  I  could  perceive 
that  there  was  something  passing  in  his  mind  which 
shook  his  whole  frame.  Suddenly,  with  a  wild  expres- 
sion of  countenance,  and  in  a  bitter  tone,  he  exclaimed, 
''Oh!  agony!  agony!  agony!  agony!  I  shall  perish 
after  all."  I  was  much  frightened,  and  went  to  call 
my  father.  I  told  him  Willy  must  be  delirious.  When 
my  father  saw  him  he  said,  ''  Oh  no !  this  is  no  de- 
lirium. I  know  exactly  what  he  is  passing  through." 
He  sat  down  beside  Wilberforce,  and  began  to  talk 
soothingly  to  him,  but  he  refused  to  be  comforted.  He 
still  cried  out  with  his  whole  remaining  strength,  "Oh, 
agony !  agony !  agony !  Satan  will  have  me  after  all. 
Papa,  pray  for  me ;  he  tells  me  I  shall  be  lost  —  he  tells 
me  my  sins  will  damn  me.  Oh,  papa,  this  is  agony ! 
all  is  dark,  dark  —  all  gone  —  all  lost  —  and  has  Christ 
brought  me  thus  far  to  leave  me  at  last  ?  "  My  dear 
father  was  much  overcome  at  this  scene,  and  struggled 
hard  for  composure.  He  repeated  text  after  text ;  and 
with  apparent  calmness,  and  in  his  own  tender  and 
peculiar  manner,  enlarged  on  the  faithful  love  of  the 
Saviour.  He  assured  Willy  of  his  full  persuasion  that 
Christ's  honor  was  pledged  in  presenting  his  soul  safe 
to  the  Father :  that  this  was  the  last  attack  of  Satan ; 
that  he  took  advantage  of  his  bodily  weakness,  to  dis- 
tress, when  he  could  not  harm  him.  But  poor  Willy 
seemed  still  more  agitated.  The  cold  drops  stood  on  his 
forehead  —  his  look  betrayed  the  deepest  anguish,  and 
he  shook  with  terror.  ''  Oh !  papa !  what  will  become 
of  me,"  he  cried ;  "  I  am  going  into  the  dark  valley 
alone.  Jesus  has  left  me.  It  is  all  dark,  dark,  dark. 
The  rod  and  the  staff  do  not  support  me.  Satan  fights 
hard  for  me,  and  he  will  carry  me  away  at  last."     His 


CONVEESATIONS.  273 

bodily  sufferings  seemed  quite  forgotten,  and  were  lost 
in  tlie  bitter  anguish  of  his  mind,  and  he  still  continued 
to  repeat,  ''  Agony  I  agony."  My  dear  father  tried 
again  by  a  variety  of  argument,  and  by  a  frequent 
appeal  to  Scripture,  to  support  his  despairing  child,  but 
in  vain.  He  seemed  given  up  for  a  time  to  such  sharp 
and  sore  besetments  as  baffled  all  attempts  to  administer 
comfort.  After  a  silence  of  some  minutes,  and  when  he 
seemed  nearly  fainting,  my  dear  father  solemnly  re- 
peated, ''Simon,  Simon,  Satan  hath  desired  to  have 
thee,  that  he  may  sift  thee  as  wheat ;  bat  I  have  prayed 
for  thee,  that  thy  faith  fail  not."  These  were  the  first 
words  which  made  any  impression  on  Wilberforce. 
He  said,  "  Ah !  papa,  I  used  to  love  those  words,  but 
they  are  gone ;  I  will  try  to  understand  them ;  say 
them  again."  My  father  repeated  the  affecting  words 
of  the  Saviour  to  his  tempted  disciple.  "Willy  listened 
to  them  with  intense*  interest.  When  he  heard  the 
words,  ''but  I  have  prayed  for  thee,  that  thy  faith 
fail  not,"  he  exclaimed,  "Oh,  my  dear  papa,  do  you 
think  that  Christ  is  praying  for  me?  Does  he  pray 
for  me  in  this  hour  of  darkness,  when  I  have  no  faith?" 
"Certainly,  my  dear  boy,  I  cannot  doubt  it.  I  am 
quite  sure  he  is  praying  for  you  at  this  instant.  Take 
courage,  then.  Do  you  think  God  will  not  hear  Christ's 
prayer?  "Him  the  Father  heareth  always."  His 
mind  became  a  little  calmer,  but  he  still  looked  uneasy, 
and  repeated  slowly,  "  Can  I  have  been  brought  to  love 
him  so,  only  to  perish?  Can  such  feelings  as  I  have, 
such  a  hatred  of  sin,  be  fitting  me  for  hell?  No,  it 
cannot  be — such  feelings  could  not  exist  in  hell — He 
will  save  me,  as  the  chief  of  sinners."  Presently  he 
exclaimed,  "Jesus  has  not  left  me.  I  see  him  again  — 
more  precious  than  ever  —  my  Saviour — my  hope.  How 
could  I  distrust  him  —  I  am  more  than  conof^eror. 
Papa,  I  feel  safe  — I  am  Christ's.     Why  did  I  doubt? 


274       LIFE    OF    WILBEKFORCE    RICHMOND. 

I  am  so  strengtliened.  Dear  papa,  I  can  give  you  no 
idea  of  tlie  augiiisli  of  my  heart.  It  exceeded  all  1 
supposed  endurable.  I  thought  myself  in  Satan's  hands. 
It  must  have  been  such  anguish  as  this  which  made  the 
Saviour  cry  out,  "My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me?"  I  never  knew  what  suffering  was  be- 
fore ;  I  thought  I  was  lost."  *'  And  what  do  you  now 
think."  "I  have  great  peace,  firtn  confidence;  I  am 
so  strengthened,  papa,  in  my  faith  —  so  strengthened — 
hell  shall  not  prevail;  Christ  has  saved  me  —  none  shall 
pluck  me  out  of  his  hand.  I  should  not  be  afraid  to 
grapple  with  this  dreadful  foe  again;  I  should  not  be 
afraid,  if  Jesus  were  standing  by  "  —  and  then  shuddering 
at  his  own  recollections,  he  added,  ''But,  papa,  I  hope 
God  will  not  see  it  necessary  to  try  me  in  this  way 
again ;  I  hope  not.  It  was  indeed  a  dreadful  struggle." 
"  Why  say  so  ? "  said  his  father,  ''  it  is  possible  God 
may  see  fit  thus  to  try  your  faith  again.  You  see  how 
he  has  supported  you — you  have  been  the  conqueror  — 
why  then  shrink  ?  " 

"Oh  no!  I  will  not  shrink,  I  could  go  through  it 
again,  if  it  were  God's  will;  I  could  not  see  my  Saviour 
in  that  dark  hour,  but  now  I  know  he  was  near  me." 
And  then  shuddering  at  his  own  words,  he  added,  "  but 
I  hope  it  will  not  be  i;.ecessary  again  to  try  me'  thus." 

"  This  last  sorrow  attached  him  more  than  ever  to 
his  father.  He  could  not  bear  that  he  should  be  out  of 
his  sight,  and  listened  to  every  word  which  fell  from 
him,  with  the  most  grateful  love  and  confiding  simplicity. 
He  truly  hung  upon  his  lips.  Never  was  there  a  more 
affecting  sight,  than  to  behold  this  loving  father  and  no 
less  loving  son,  now  blending  every  feeling  and  thought 
of  their  hearts  together,  and  so  closely  united  in 
religious  intercourse,  that  they  seemed  as  it  were  a  twin. 
souL  *" 

"My  father  was  obliged  to  leave  Wilberforce  for  a 


CONVEESATIONS.  275 

little  while ;  on  liis  return^  tlie  latter,  looking  up  with 
a  smile;  said,  '^Papa,  I  cannot  pray  now  —  I  am  so  very 
ill;  but  I  have  been  praising.^''  '^For  what,  my  dear 
boy?  "  "I  have  been  blessing  God  for  giving  me  such 
a  father;  when  I  can  say  nothing  else,  I  can  praise 
God  for  such  a  dear  father ;  to  whom  I  can  tell  all,  and  who 
helps  me  on  to  heaven."  This  was  almost  too  much  for 
my  father ;  he  could  neither  speak  nor  weep,  he  seemed 
absorbed  in  unutterable  feelings ;  the  fountain  of  tears 
was  dried  up. 

"  Willy  did  not  wait  for  a  reply.  '^  I  am  sorry,  papa 
I  did  not  open  my  mind  to  you  before;  how  much 
happier  I  should  have  been,  if  I  had  done  so.  I  have 
now  no  reserve — T  can  tell  you  every  thing.  You  are 
my  friend  and  my  guide  ;  my  dear,  dear  papa,  I  do  love 
you  ;  you  have  so  helped  me  in  my  great  trial." 

"  In  the  evening  he  conversed  with  his  father  on  the 
bitter  agony  through  which  he  had  passed  in  the  morn- 
ing, with  calmness  and  faith.  Some  one  present  asked 
him  what  he  thought  to  be  the  best  evidences  of  conver- 
sion —  ''A  broken  heart  and  a  contrite  spirit,"  he  re- 
plied, ''  This  is  what  I  brought  to  God,  and  it  was  the 
only  evidence  I  could  rely  on." 

"  The  next  day  he  expressed  some  impatience  at 
lingering  so  long,  earnestly  desiring  that  this  might  be 
his  last  day ;  but  he  soon  checked  himself,  and  prayed 
against  a  restless  spirit.  He  sometimes  cried  out,  "  How 
long,  how  long  !  when  shall  I  be  free  !  How  my  spirit 
struggles  to  get  away  from  this  poor  weary  body  !  Papa, 
do  you  think  I  shall  linger  here  another  day  ?  "  And 
v/ithout  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  said,  ''But  my  times  are 
in  thy  hands,  O  God  —  I  must  die  daily — I  will  patiently 
wait  thy  will."  He  called  me  to  him,  and  gave  me  a 
copy  of  Miss  Jerram's  Memoir.  He  said  it  had  been  of 
great  use  to  him,  and  that  God's  dealings  with  her  had 
sometimes  comforted  him.     "  We  both  passed  through 


276        LIFE    OF    WILBEEFOECE    EICHMOND. 

great  sorrows,  but  Grod  comforted  us  botli  in  his  owd 

time.     Eead   it,   dear   F ;  I  give  you  my  copy ;  I 

have  no  further  need  of  it,  and  may  God  bless  it  to  you.' 
He  asked  to  have  the  17th  chapter  of  St.  John  read  to 
him,  and  remarked,  "  How  very  phain  is  the  doctrine  of 
that  chapter  !  I  wonder  there  should  be  so  much  contro- 
versy about  it." 

"  What  is  to-morrow  ?  "  he  asked.  "  It  is  the  Sab- 
bath." He  seemed  pleased,  and  earnestly  begged  that 
the  congregation  might  be  requested  to'  pray  for  him  in 
the  church.  On  Sunday  morning  he  was  much  weaker, 
and  his  end  was  evidently  fast  approaching.  To  a  kind 
friend  who  had  nursed -him,  he  said,  "How  do  I  look 
now  ?  "  She  saw  the  approach  of  death  in  his  languid 
eye  and  pallid  countenance.  "  Yon  look  worse.  Master 
Wilberforce,  I  do  not  think  that  you  can  live  much 
longer."  The  effect  produced  by  her  opinion  was  truly 
astonishing.  His  dim  eye  lighted  up,  all  his  fea- 
tures assumed  a  new  life,  and  turning  to  her  he  said, 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  G ,  good  news  !  you  tell 

me  good  news.  Shall  I  indeed  be  in  heaven  to-day  ?  " 
My  father  came  into  the  room.  "Papa,"  said  he, 
"  how  do  I  look  —  am  I  altered  ?  "  "  No,  my  dear  boy, 
I  see  little  difference  in  you."  He  was  evidently  dis- 
appointed.    "  Do   you    see    no    difference  ?  "    said  *  he, 

"Mrs.   G^ does.      She   has   made    me   happy, — she 

thinks  I  may  die  to-day."  My  father  sat  with  him  the 
whole  of  the  day  while  we  were  at  church,  and  Willy 
asked  him  to*  read  the  service  for  the  visitation  of  the 
sick.  He  listened  with  devout  attention,  and  when  it 
was  ended  he  said,  "  Oh !  my  dear  papa,  what  beautiful 
prayers!  what  an  affecting  service!  it  expresses  my 
whole  heart." 

"  He  then  said  to  his  mother,  "  I  love  to  look  at  you, 
mamma.  I  love  to  smile  at  you,  but  I  want  to  smile 
at  Jesus."     He   asked   her  to  draw   near,  and  let  him 


HIS    LAST    MOMENTS.  277 

lean  on  her  bosom.  ^'It  is  sweet  to  lean  on  yon,  dear 
mamma ;  but  I  long  to  lean  on  tlie  bosom  of  Jesus." 
He  conversed  with  his  father  in  the  afternoon  for  the 
last  time.  Eeference  is  made  to  the  conversation  in  his 
papers  as  follows : " 

*'  Agony  —  conflict  —  triumph  —  glorying  in  this  second 
struggle  with  Satan  —  expecting  another  struggle  —  not 
fearing  it.  The  enemy  subdued,  bruised  under  his  feet. 
Longing  to  be  in  heaven — not  able  to  form  any  idea  of 
another  world,  yet  full  of  confidence  of  being  there  — 
'I  know  in  whom  I  am  trusting' — dreading  to  linger, 
yet  bowing  to  the  will  of  God.  His  joy  in  the  prayers 
of  the  church  for  him  —  Christ  will  save  me." 

"He  had  been  accustomed  to  teach  a  class  in  the 
Sunday  school,  and  bSgged  that  his  dying  message 
might  be  written  down  and  sent  to  the  children  that 
evening.  He  had  not  been  able  to  lie  in  bed  for  a  week, 
owing  to  the  pain  in  his  side ;  but  on  Sunday  evening 
he  expressed  a  wish  to  be  undressed  and  put  into  bed, 
being  inclined  to  sleep.  He  was  accordingly  put  to  bed, 
and  lay  very  tranquil  and  comfortable.  My  father 
stood  watching  beside  him  till  he  thought  him  asleep. 
He  then  went  to  his  study,  as  he  afterwards  told  us,  to 
pray,  that  if  it  were  God's  will,  his  child  might  have 
quiet  and  ease  in  his  last  moments;  for  he  much 
dreaded  the  severity  of  a  dying  agony,  wliich  from  the 
past  he  thought  probable.  As  he  was  going  away  he 
blessed  him,  and  looking  at  him  as  he  lay,  serene  and 
beautiful  in  his  repose,  he  said,  "  So  He  giveth  His  be- 
loved sleep."  Willy  opened  his  eyes  on  hearing  these 
words,  and  replied,  ''Yes,  dear  papa,  and  the  rest 
which  Christ  gives  is  sweet."  These  were  his  last  words. 
He  immediately  sunk  into  a  long  and  peaceful  slumber. 

We   were   sitting   near   him.      Mrs.   ,   his  faithful 

nu.rse,  stood  and  watched  beside  him.  We  could  hear 
distinctly  every  breath  he  drew,   and  the  least  change 

24 


278         LIFE     OP     WILBERFOKCE     HICnMOND. 

in  tlie  sound  was  perceptible.  One  or  two  breathings 
were  slower  and  longer,  wbich  made  ns  get  up  and  look 
at  him.  He  appeared  as  if  slumbering  very  sweetly. 
There   was   no   alteration   in   his  countenance,  and  we 

were  going  to  sit   down  again,   when  Mrs.  said, 

'^  Call  your  papa,  ^immediately."  We  did  so,  and  he 
came  just  in  time  to  hear  his  last  sigh.  I  think  he 
awoke  from  sleep  but  felt  no  pain,  nor  was  sensible  of 
death.  My  father  raised  Willy's  head  upon  his  arm, 
and  contemplated  it  for  a  minute.  The  countenance 
looked  placid,  as  if  it  had  beheld  the  Saviour's  face 
in  righteousness  and  was  satisfied.  My  father  pressed 
the  lifeless  body  to  his  bosom,  and  burst  into  a  flood  of 
tears;  struggling  with  nature's  anguish.  At  length, 
subduing  his  feelings,  he  said, '"My  child  is  a  saint  in 
glory."  He  bid  us  all  follow  him  to  the  study,  that  we 
might  praise  God  for  his  mercy  and  loving-kindness. 
He  opened  the  Bible  and  read  the  two  last  chapters  of 
the  Book  of  Revelations,  and  then  knelt  down  and 
prayed  with  us.  It  was  a  moment  not  to  be  forgotten. 
Our  dear  father  appeared  so  absorbed  in  the  contempla- 
tion of  his  child's  entrance  into  heaven,  and  his  union 
with  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect,  as  to  be 
scarcely  conscious  of  the  presence  of  his  family  around 
him. 

''Between  the  death  and  the  faneral  of  my  brother, 
my  dear  father's  mind  was  often  severely  exercised. 
Sometimes  he  would  weep,  and  say,  '  All  thy  waves  and 
storms  are  gone  over  me  I '  and  then,  '  Precious  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his  saints ! '  'He  giveth 
and  he  taketh  away,  and  blessed  be  his  holy  name  ! '  He 
would  rise  early  in  the  morning  to  gaze  on  the  peaceful 
countenance  of  his  departed  child.  We  overheard  him 
giving  vent  to  the  mingled  emotions  of  his  heart  in 
the  chamber  of  death.  But  he  was  comforted  in  tribu- 
lation, and  he  returned  to  his  family,    to  soothe  their 


niS     LAST     MOMENTS.  279 

sorrows  with  the  comfort  wherewith  he  was  comforted 
of  God.  lie  said  little,  but  his  calm  and  subdued 
ipirit  bespoke  Christian  resignation.  He  used  to  teach 
us  that  disquiet  was  the  result  of  distrust,  and  Ave  saw 
in  his  silent  submission  an  example  of  his  own  principle, 
that  his  heart  trusted  in  God.  'Though  his  hand  be 
lifted  up  to  destroy,  yet  from  that  very  hand  do  I  expect 
salvation.'  "* 

'^A  vault  was  opened  for  Wilberforce  under  the 
chancel.  An  incident  occurred  which  much  affected 
us,  and  which  showed  the  pious  and  affectionate  sym- 
pathy of  the  people  in  the  sorrows  of  their  pastor. 
The  workmen  had  not  completed  the  vault  till  past 
eleven  o'clock  at  night,  when  they  agreed  to  descend 
into  it,  and  consecrate  the  place  which  was  shortly  to 
receive  our  brother's  remains,  by  prayer.  The  sepul- 
chre of  the  dead  became  holy  ground.  They  joined  in 
praises  to  him  who  is  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  and 
who  has  enlightened  the  gloomy  grave  by  his  own 
presence.  They  continued  in  prayer  till  midnight, 
commending  their  beloved  minister  to  the  grace  of 
God — invoking  blessings  on  his  family,  and  entreating 
that-  this  mournful  event  might  be  overruled  to  the 
increase  of  religion  in  the  parish ;  and  may  we  not 
hope,  that  their  prayer  was  heard  ?  The  subsequent 
state  of  the  village  may  be  described  as  life  from  the 
dead.  In  the  morning  of  my  brother's  interment,  my 
father  prayed  with  his  family,  I  trust  that  the  Spirit 
of  God  poured  out  his  special  influence  on  the  minds 
of  those  present.  A  friend  afterwards  observed,  "  This 
is  the  fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man,  which  availeth 
much.  Can  we  doubt  that  it  is  recorded  in  heaven,  and 
will  long  be  remembered  on  earth !  " 

"From  this  time,  our  dear  father  gave  himself  up 
to   the  work  of  tha   ministry  with  redoubled  diligence. 

*  Lei^bton. 


280         LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE     RICHMOND. 

The  congregations  were  large  and  attentive.  He  went 
daily  from,  cottage  to  cottage  amongst  the  poor,  warn- 
ing, exhorting,  comforting,  and  confirming  the  soullf 
of  the  disciples  in  the  grace  of  God.  He  used  to  meet 
persons  nearly  every  evening  in  the  week,  for  prayer 
and  exposition  of  the  Scriptures.  Many  a  heart  in 
Turvey  still  glows  at  the  recollection  of  these  seasons. 
There  was  a  general  revival  of  religion,  both  amongst 
old  and  young,  and  scarcely  a  day  passed  in  which 
some  one  did  not  anxiously  inquire,  "  What  must  I  do 
to  be  saved?"  There  might  be  in  this  excitement 
something  that  was-  of  a  doubtful  character,  but  there 
were  certainly  many  real  conversions,  and  a  general  and 
increased  attention  towards  religion,  unknown  at  any 
former  period.  My  father  seldom  left  his  parish,  or  saw 
any  one  out  of  his  own  family ;  to  whom  he  became 
still  more  endeared,  and  for  whose  progress  and  improve- 
ment in  religion,  he  manifested  an  anxiety  even  to  de- 
pression, and  an  earnestness  which  impaired  his  own 
health.  He  had  naturally  very  high  spirits  and  was  at 
times  playful  in  his  conversation ;  but  now,  though  he 
sometimes  smiled,  he  was  ever  thoughtful,  pensive  and 
silent.  He  appeared  to  be  wounded  by  the  least  approxi- 
mation to  levity,  and  was  continually  pressing  on  us  a 
more  serious  apprehension  of  eternity.  On  one  occasion, 
when  he  thought  we  had  indulged  in  a  conversation  too 
little  in  unison  with  the  late  event — he  made  no  remark 
at  the  time,  but  the  next  morning  I  found  on  my  table 
the  following  note. 

''My  dearest  Child, 
"  There  is  a  degree  of  relief  to  a  tender  spirit  in  the 
communication  of  its  thoughts  and  feelings.  The  affecting 
scenes  of  this  time  twelvemonth  have  scarcely  ever  been 
absent  from  my  recollection  even  for  a  moment.  In  the 
midst  of  our  (perhaps  too  great)  hilarities,  I  have  pic- 


n  I  S    D  E  A  T  II.  281  ^ 

tared  to  my  imagination  Willy  dying  last  week,  and 
this  week  daad  in  tlie  house.  Have  we  all  felt  and  done 
as  mucli  as  we  ouglit  on  tMs  affecting  occasion  ?  Is  the 
sacredness  and  solemnity  of  that  interesting  period  pre- 
served in  our  hearts  ?  Has  the  erection  of  another  tablet 
in  the  church  sufficiently  moved  our  afiections  ?  Mon- 
day evening  was  a  trying  hour  to  my  heart.  My  poor 
Willy  died  on   that  day,  and  as  on  next   Sunday  we 

buried  him.     Oh !  let  you  and  I  my  dear  F ,  ponder 

these  things  in  our  souls  for  good,  *  *  *  ^ 
Amidst  the  living,  let  us  not  forget  the  dead. 

L.  E." 

'^  My  dear  father  for  many  years  had  been  accustomed 
to  write  pastoral  letters  to  his  parishoners,  which  were 
read  in  the  school-room  to  those'  who  chose  to  attend. 
The  following  address  to  them  was  written  gt)on  after  my 
brother's  death. 

''My  dear  Friends,  Neighbours,  and 
Parishioners, 

''In  the  midst  of  my  sorrows  at  the  removal  of  my 
dearly-loved  child,  I  wish  you  to  know  that  the  Lord 
supports  me  wonderfully.  I  cannot  yet  come  out 
amongst  you,  but  I  cannot  be  quite  silent.  I  have 
therefore  desired  my  dear  friend  and  fellow-labourer 
to  read  this  letter  to  you.  I  have  preached  the  gospel 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  to  you  more  than  nineteen 
years,  and  through  his  mercy  I  have  seen  some  precious 
fruits  of  these  labours  amongst  you,  but  never  have  I 
witnessed  a  more  beautiful  or  triumphant  evidence  that 
I  have  not  taught,  preached,  or  lived  in  vain,  ^han  in 
the  case  of  my  dear  son,  now  a  sharer  of  the  Eedeemer's 
glory  in  heaven.  Oh  I  what  a  call  for  praise,  that  he 
was  not  only  my  natural,  but  also  my  spiritual  child. 
Such  was  his  love  to  Christ,  and  Christ's  love  to  him 

24* 


282       LIFE    OF    WILBERFORCE    RICHMOND. 

that  ±  am  lost  in  wonder,  love,  and  praise.  I  am  per- 
suaded there  are  many  of  you  Avho  feel  deeply  for  me. 
You  can  weep  with  me  wlien  I  weep,  and  rejoice  with 
me  when  I  rejoice.  You  have  prayed  for  my  child. 
It  was  the  delight  of  his  heart  to  hear  of  your  love  and 
sympathy,  and  he  dwelt  on  the  interest  you  took  in  his 
welfare  to  the  very  day  of  his  death.  He  was  indeed 
a  boy  of  no  common  mind,  and  the  Lord  sanctified  his 
great  natural  endowments  to  his  own  glory.  I  feel  more 
and  more  every  hour,  what  a  treasure  I  have  lost ;  but 
at  the  same  time  I  see  more  and  more  what  a  blessed- 
ness he  has  attained.  I  have  been  watching  him  at 
home  and  abroad,  with  a  parent's  eye  and  a  Christian's 
"heart,  both  for  his  body  and  soul,  ever  since  disease 
fastened  on  his  frame. last  summer,  and  no  one  will  ever 
know  what  my  anxieties  have  been  during  that  period. 
But  I  trust  God  meant  all  for  my  good.  The  trial, 
severely  as  I  have  felt  it,  has  shown  me  more  of  myself, 
and  more  of  my  God.  My  prayers  for  my  dear  child 
have  been  abundantly  answered.  Blessed  be  God  I  he 
was  enabled  to  disclose  his  whole  heart  to  me,  and  to 
others,  before  he  was  taken  away.  He  conversed  with 
many  in  a  most  useful  and  edifying  manner,  exhorting 
them  to  prayer,  faith,  and  holiness.  He  could  tell  them 
all,  that  he  knew  in  whom  he  trusted,  and  could  look 
at  death  with  perfect  peace.  Believe  me,  then,  when  I 
tell  you  that  though  I  am  greatly  affected,  and  humbled 
in  the  dust  with  a  sense  of  sin  and  sorrow,  yet  that  my 
mercies  are  so  abounding  in  abounding  chastisement, 
that  I  can,  and  do  rejoice  in  tribulation.  Oh!  may  it 
work' patience,  and  patience  experience,  and  experience 
hope,  and  may  hope  make  me  more  faithful  and  diligent, 
that  I  be  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  in  principle  or 
practice,  for  your  sakes,  as  well  as  my  own.  It  is  a 
great  comfort  to  me  now,  as  I  am  kept  from  ministering 
to  you  for  a  season,  that  you  have  one  amongst  you 


HIS     DEATH.  283 

who  preaclies  the  same  truth,  and  in  the  same  spirit- 
May  our  common  Lord  and  Saviour  bless  him,  and  you, 
and  me  together.  I  beg  your  prayers,  at  this  season  in 
particular,  for  me  and  mine.  They  are  no  longer  need- 
ful for  my  beloved  son.  Let  them  be  transferred  to  the 
surviving  members  of  my  family.  Pray  especially  for 
those  who  watch  for  your  souls ;  that  we  may  expe- 
rience help  and  comfort  in  ourselves,  and  dispense 
the  word  of  life  with  more  zeal  and  love.  Pray  that 
there  may  be  no  divisions  or  wanderings  of  heart 
amongst  us  —  that  we  may  be  all  of  one  mind  and 
judgment,  in  those  things  which  make  for  our  ever 
lasting  peace.  Pray  that  the  young  children  may  be 
brought  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord. 
My  dear  boy  sent  them  a  message  on  his  dying  bed, 
which  was  read  to  them  a  short  time  before  his  happy 
soul  entered  into  rest.  May  the  whole  school  remember 
it  for  his  sake,  and  their  soul's  sake.  God  bless  you  all, 
my  dear  friends :  I  cannot  doubt  but  that  you  will  bear 
me  on  your  hearts  to  a  throne  of  grace. 

''  Your  affectionate  Minister, 

L.  E." 

"  When  my  father  resumed  his  labours  amongst  the 
people,  he  seemed  to  be  aware  of  his  declining  health, 
though  he  said  nothing  to  the  family.  His  nsual  and 
only  reply,  when  we  expressed  our  fears,  was,  "I  must 
work  while  it  is  called  to-day: — the  night  cometh  when 
no  man  can  work."  He  appeared  moulded  into  the 
spirit  of  the  apostle;  ''affectionately  desirous  to  spend 
and  be  spent  in  the  service  of  his  flock,  and  to  impart 
to  them  not  only  the  gospel  of  Christ,  but_  if  it  were 
possible,  his  own  soul  also;"  and  the  people  caught 
the  holy  contagion  of  his  fervent  zeal  and  love.  There 
was  between  them  an  almost  unexampled  reciprocity  of 


2S4:  LIFE     OF    WILBERFORCE     RICHMOND. 

regard  and  desire  ''to  glorify  God,  and   walk  liumblj, 
justly,  and  unblameably  before  him."  ^ 

"You  will  receive  with  indulgence  the  overflowings 
of  my  heart  towards  a  father  whose  memory  is  still 
cherished  by  his  family  and  by  his  parishoners,  with 
the  deepest  gratitude,  and  I  hope  we  may  add,  with  an 
unfeigned  anxiety  to  walk  in  the  steps  of  his  bright 
example,  and  meet  him  again  in  everlasting  glory. 
Believe  me,  my  very  dear  Sir, 
Your  affectionate  and  faithful 

F " 

*  1  Tess.  ii.  8,  10. 


MB.    RICHMOND'S    THIRD    DAUGHTER.       285 


CHAPTER    IX. 

'  Sure  'tis  a  solemn  thing  to  die,  my  soul.' 

Blair. 
*  This  only  can  reconcile  us  to  the  grave,  that  our  greatest  hopes  lie  beyond 
it.'  IIOWK. 

"We  proceed  with  the  same  view  of  illustration,  to 
notice  ^ome  particulars  relating  to  the  third  daughter  of 
Mr.  Eichmond,  who  survived  her  father  only  a  year 
and  a  half.  She  was  also  the  child  of  faith  and  prayer, 
and  equally  the  object  of  his  tender  solicitude  with  the 
rest  of  his  family. 

I  am  not  warranted  to  present  her  character  as  an 
instance  of  high  attainment  in  piety  ;  l)ut  the  exercises 
of  her  mind  during  her  last  illness,  sufficiently  disclose 
the  salutary  effect  of  a  religious  education ;  and  while 
we  indulge  the  pleasing  hope  that  she  has  joined  her 
beloved  father  in  the  mansions  of  the  blessed,  her  case 
will  afford  additional  encouragement  to  the  Christian 
parent,  to  sow  in  his  children's  hearts  the  seeds  of 
eternal  life,  which,  watered  "by  the  early  and  latter 
rain,"  seldom  fail  to  spring  up  and  ripen  to  reward  his 
labours,  as  occasions  arise  in  the  varying  circumstances 
and  events  of  life. 

This  amiable  young  woman  ''possessed  an  exube- 
rance of  animal  spirits,  and  a  turn  for  the  ludicrous, 
which  was  very  difficult  to  be  restrained  within  the 
bounds  of  discretion,  and  gave  her  dear  father  much 
anxiety."  * 

*  Extracted  from  Mrs.  R.'s  letter  to  the  Author. 


286      ME.    EICHMOND's    Till  ED    DAUGHTER. 

A  volatile  temper  is  in  all  cases  a  grevious  liindrance 
to  intellectual  and  spiritual  improvement.  Good  conver- 
sation cannot  consist  with  the  indulgence  of  ''foolish 
talking  and  jesting,"  and  the  mind  is  diverted  by  it 
from  solid  and  useful  pursuits.  "We  may  attempt  to 
excuse  this  cast  of  character,  and  speak  of  it  as  a  play- 
fulness of  temper :  but  after  all,  it  cannot  be  approved. 
The  disposition  to  amuse  ourselves  with  the  defects  or 
peculiarities  of  others,  may  generally  be  traced  to  vanity 
in  ourselves  ;  and  is  a  habit  of  mind  wholly  inconsistent 
with  the  spirit  of  humility  and  love,  as  well  as  a  sad 
forgetfulness  of  that  solemn  caution,  "  Every  idle  word 
that  a  man  shall  speak,  he  shall  give  an  account  thereof 
at  the  day  of  judgment."*  * 

There  was  not,  however  any  thing  cynical  or  severe 
in  the  strain  of  this  young  person's  conversation.  She 
was  naturally  frank,  open,  and  kind  hearted,  and  to 
oblige  another  was  a  real  satisfaction  to  herself.  It  was 
rather  a  thoughtless  propensity,  common  to  many  young 
people,  ''to  giggle  and  make  giggle,"!  that  I  am  lament- 
ing. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  the  dead  so  as  not  to  wound 
the  tender  feelings  of  the  living,  but  when  it  is  required 
to  pourtray  character,  the  simple  declaration  of  the  truth 
is  best,  and  is  indeed  the  only  course  consistent  with 
Christian  integrity.  She  who  forms  the  subject  of  my 
present  remarks,  affixed  a  solemn  seal  to  their  truth  in 
the  affecting  review  which  she  took  of  the  past  in  her 
dying  hours.  It  is  a  source  of  much  congratulation  that 
she  is  now  beyond  the  opinion  of  man,  whose  imperfect 
knowledge  renders  him  at  all  times  incompetent  to  pro- 
nounce on  his  fellow-creatures,  and  should  remind  him 
of  the  danger  of  assuming  a  prerogative  he  cannot  claim. 
"Judge  nothing  before  the  time." 

Mr.  Richmond  placed  his  daughter  at  school  at , 

*  MiitL  xli.  36.  f  Cowpor's  Ijotters. 


LETTERS     FROM     II  E  R   F  A  T  H  E  R.  287 

wliere  lie  expected  that  the  strictest  attention  would  be 
paid  to  her  principles  and  conduct.  I  have  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  he  was  dissatisfied  with  the  care  and 
vigilance  of  those  to  wliom  he  had  entrusted  his  child ; 
but  whatever  she  had  acquired  in  other  respects,  it  does 
not  appear  that  at  the  close  of  her  education  she  had 
made  any  advancement  in  religion. 

About  this  time  Mr.  E.  addressed  the  following  letter 
to  her :  — 

"DearH . 


"And  now  comes  your  turn.  Eeceive,  read,  mark, 
and  inwardly  digest.  I  do  not  know  how  much  you  are 
grown  in  stature,  but  I  do  hope  you  are  growing  in 
wisdom.  Then,  whether  you  are  to  be  a  woman  tall,  or 
a  woman  short,  will  signify  very  little.  You  will,  if 
your  wisdom  be  of  the  right  kind,  be  of  a  tall  mind  and 
of  tall  attainments,  and  we  will  call  you  the  little  woman 
with  the  great  soul.  I  have  heard  of  a  person's  soul 
being  so  mean  and  small,  that  if  you  were  to  put  it  into 
a  hollow  mustard-seed  and  shake  it  well,  it  would  rattle. 
Now  that  is  not  the  sort  of  soul  I  wish  to  discover  in 
you.  I  want  to  see  a  soul  in  you  which  can  embrace 
all  useful  and  requisite  knowledge  —  a  soul  which  can 
extend  its  energies  beyond  ordinary  limits;  which  can 
feel  for  all  around  you,  and  carry  its  benevolent  activity 
throughout  the  universe ;    which   can   contemplate   the 

globe,  such  a  one  as  you  study  at  B ,  and  find  new 

problems  upon  it :  as,  how  to  carry  the  gospel  into  all 
latitudes  and  all  longitudes ;  how  to  excite  pity  for  the 
poor  heathen  in  every  zone  and  climate  of  the  world ; 
how  to  equalize  all  nations  in  the  sympathy  of  Christian 
love,  and  thus  make  a  spiritual  equator;  how  to  esti- 
mate the  coldness  of  religion  in  the  burning  regions  of 
the  tropics,  and  how  to  carry  the  lively  heat  of  evan- 
gelical charity  into  the  districts  of  the  poles.     I  would 


288        MR.    RICHMOND'S    THIRD    DAUGHTER. 

have  you  capable  of  grasping  all  these  questions  in  your 
heart,  with  as  much  ease  as  your  hands  would  clasp  a 
doll;  or  as  mine  would  clasp  your  own  dear  self  to  my 
bosom.  But  why  do  I  wish  tha!  your  soul  may  become 
thus  capacious?  Simply  to  this  end,  that  you  may 
thereby  resemble  him  who  so  loved  the  world,  that  he 

came  into  it  to  save  sinners;  yes,  H ,  sinners  like 

unto  you.  Have  you  ever  thought  of  this  great  truth  as 
you  ought  ?  Is  foolishness  still  bound  up  in  the  heart  of 
my  child  ?  Is  human  existence  only  to  be  estimated  by 
playthings,  and  holidays,  and  all  the  etceteras  of  a  light- 
minded  state  ?  What,  a  young  damsel,  almost  fourteen 
years  old,  and  no  more  progress  in  divine  things! 
Study  your  Bible,  and  remember  your  privileges.  Study 
your  Bible,  and  dig  deep  for  a  foundation  whereon  to 
build  your  house.  Study  your  Bible,  and  say  what 
must  become  of  all  the  thoughtless  little  girls  in  the 
world,  if  they  do  not  repent  and  believe.  Once  more, 
study  your  Bible,  and  learn  what  you  first  owe  to  God, 
and  then  to  your  parents,  and  then  to  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, then  to  teachers,  and  then  to  schoolfellows,  and 
then  to  all  mankind.  Such  a  meditation  will,  with 
God's  blessing,  prove  a  merciful  hour  to  your  own  soul^ 
and  for  the  sake  of  your's,  to  my  soul  also.  I  hope  you 
will  now  pursue  your  education  with  earnestness.  Now 
is  the  time  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  useful  knowledge.  You 
cannot  set  too  high  a  value  on  the  advantages  which  you 
possess.  Whether  you  eat  or  drink,  or  whatever  you 
do,  do  all  to  the  glory  of  God.  Childhood  and  its  vani- 
ties must  speedily  pass  away,  and  you  must  have  done 
with  childish  things.  Learn  to  pray,  and  commit  your 
whole  soul  and  body  to  Christ.  He  is  able  to  keep  what 
you  give  into  his  hand,  unto  the  great  day  when  the 
secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  disclosed.  You  are  now  of 
the  age  at  which  little  Jane  did  this.  Are  you  like  her? 
Are  you  as  ready  to  meet  3"our  God  as  she  was?     Ask 


LETTEES    FEOM    II EE    FATHER.  289 

the  question  of  your  heart,  and  carry  it  to  tlie  tlirone  of 
mercy,  wliere  all  praying  souls  are  made  welcome.  I 
hoped  you  liked  the  Bible-meeting  at  Northampton.  I 
wish  you  early  to  cultivate  a  cordial  interest  in  that 
great  work — the  greatest  work  of  the  age.  In  the  day 
when  Dame  Eleanor's  cross*  was  built,  the  Bible  was 
unknown  to  the  greatest  part  of  the  country.  "What  a 
contrast  now?  The  angel  flies  through,  heaven  and 
earth,  presenting  it  to  all.  The  stone  cross  was  once 
almost  an  idol;  but  the  true  cross  proclaimed  in  the 
Bible,  is  the  real  Christian's  ensign,  prop,  and  delight. 
Farewell,  dear  love.     I  am 

Your  own  dear  father, 

L.  E." 

The  next  letter  was  written  to  the  same  daughter  on 
her  birth-day. 

''Dear  H , 


"  The  return  of  a  birth-day  is  the  signal  for  gratitude. 
Fourteen  years  ago,  as  I  sat  in  my  little  study  at  Bra- 
ding,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  about  six  in  the  morning,  in 
came  a  woman  bearing  in  her  arms  a  little  baby,  and 
wished  me  joy  of  tlie  same  —  now  this  little  baby  was  a 

little  girl,  and  that  little  girl  was  my  H ,  and  now 

is  the  fifteenth  time  that  joy  has  been  uttered  from  year 
to  year  whenever  that  day  was  named.  But  what  is 
joy  ?  Is  it  only  a  holiday  ?  But  what  is  joy  ?  Is  it 
only  a  game  of  play — is  it  merely  a  jumping,  and  frisk- 
ing, and  running,  and  chattering,  and  doll-dressing,  and 
merry-making,  and  feast-keeping?  Is  this  all  the  joy 
of  a  birth-day  ?  Away,  far  away  be  all  such  feeble  in- 
terpretations of  the  word.  Then  what  is  a  birth-day  joy  ? 
Is  it  not  the  joy  of  parents,  when  they  see  their  children 

*  This  cross  is  erected  about  a  mile  from  Northarapton,  and  was  once  held 
in  great  veneration  by  Romish  devotees, 

25 


290    MK.  eichmond's  third  daughter. 

growing  up  in  the  fear  of  tlie  Lord,  and  in  the  practice 
of  holiness?  Is  it  not  the  joy  of  the  husbandman,  when 
he  sees  his  crops  ripe  and  plentiful,  and  offering  the  pro- 
mise of  harvest  ?  Is  it  not  the  joy  of  the  gardener,  when 
he  perceives  his  young  trees  thrive,  and  blossom,  and 
bear  fruit  ?  Is  it  not  the  joy  of  the  mother  bird,  when 
after  all  her  watchings,  and  tremblings,  and  flutterings 
over  the  nest,  she  sees  her  little  ones  begin  to  fly, 
and  become  capable  of  answering  the  end  of  Divine 
Providence  in  their  creation  ?  Is  it  not  the  joy  of  the 
Christian  instructor,  when,  after  hours,  and  days,  and 
months,  and  years  spent  in  warning,  teaching,  guiding, 
praying  for,  and  affectionately  superintending  the  young 
pupil's  best  interests — that  pupil  proves  a  living  com» 
mentary  on  the  precepts  received,  grows  in  grace,  and 
love,  and  humility,  and  activity,  and  obedience,  and  as 
a  bud  of  promise  cheers  the  hearts  of  surrounding  friends 
with  prospects  of  usefulness  through  life  in  all  its  relative 
circumstances  ?  If  such  be  the  ingredients  of  birth-day 
joy,  when  duly  estimated,  may  I  be  gratified  in  express- 
ing my  joy  to-day ;  and  can  you  also  participate  in  joy 

thus  appreciated?     God  bless  you,  my  dear  H ,  on 

this  day,  and  on  every  day.  Time  flies,  opportunity 
flies,  the  school-hour  flies,  childhood  flies,  all  things  are 
hastening  to  a  grand  consummation, —  what  a  solemn 
thought!  May  my  child  conceive  and  cherish  it  to  the 
glory  of  God,  and  her  own  everlasting  consolation.  May 
Christ  become  to  her  a  gracious  Saviour,  received,  loved 
and  honored  by  her.  Such  is  the  prayer  of  her  affec- 
tionate father. 

L.  E." 

On  an  occasion  of  indisposition,  Mr.  E.  writes  again. 

"Deae  H- 


"  My  anxious  wish  for  your  spiritual  and  temporal 


LETTERS     FROM     HER    FATHER. 


291 


welfare  induces  me  to  express  my  tlioughts  to  you  in 
these  little  notes.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  desire 
that  this  season  of  sickness  may  be  blessed  of  Grod  to 
your  present  and  everlasting  good.  This  thought  is 
continually  before  me,  and  I  pray  constantly  to  him  that 
you  may  be  inwardly  strengthened  by  the  power  of  his 
might.  Examine  yourself.  Prove  yourself.  Bring 
your  heart  and  all  your  thoughts  before  God,  and  make 
a  solemn  surrender  of  yourself  to  him.  Employ  with 
gratitude  and  patience  the  means  which  are  prescribed 
for  your  recovery,  but  trust  in  him  alone.  Physicians 
can  do  nothing  without  his  blessing  on  their  medicines. 
I  thank  God  for  your  last  note,  and  shall,  be  much 
pleased  when  you  can  and  will  write  me  another. 
Above  all  things  be  much  in  prayer :  in  the  watches 
of  the  night  speak  to  God :  in  the  events  of  the  day, 
tell  him  how  much  you  need  and  depend  on  him.  In 
moments  of  weakness,  ask  him  for  strength ;  in  seasons 
of  pain,  petition  for  contentment.  He  will  of  his  riches 
abundantly  supply  your  need.  But  you  must  deal 
faithfully  with  yourself,  and  humbly  and  perseveringly 
with  him.  Be  not  content  with  merely  saying,  ''  Christ 
died  for  sinners."  Try  to  get  an  evidence  that  you  have 
a  personal  interest  in  him.  This  may  be  known  by  the 
state  of  your  heart  towards  him.  ''We  love  him 
because  he  first  loved  us."  His  love  produces  love,  and 
our  love  to  him  proves  that  he  has  loved,  and  does  love 
us.  Are  you  ignorant  ?  he  is  wisdom.  Are  you  guilty  ? 
he  is  righteousness.  Are  you  unholy  ?  he  is  sanctifica- 
tion.  Are  you  a  captive  ?  he  is  redemption.  "What  is 
he  not  to  the  sinner?  his  strength  is  perfect  in  the 
believer's  weakness,  He  was  tempted  in  all  points 
like  as  we  are,  and  therefore  knows  how  to  succour  them 
that  are  tempted.  Oh  my  child  1  if  you  can  only  cleave 
to  him,  and  all  that  he  is,  and  all  he  has  promised  to  be. 


292    ME.  eichmond's  thied  daughter. 

nothing  can  harm  yon.  Meditate  on  these  things,  and 
may  God  make  them  qnite  and  entirely  your  own. 

"  JSTow  for  a  text  for  reflection.  "  In  all  our  afflictions 
he  was  afflicted.  ISTot  a  pang  ever  distressed  our  bodies, 
nor  a  trial  our  hearts,  but  Jesus  has  felt  it,  and  he 
not  only  felt  it  in  himself,  but  he  feels  it  for  and  in  us. 
What  a  consolation  is  here?  This  thought  has  sup- 
ported thousands  in  their  trouble.  May  it  support  you. 
Behold  Christ  in  every  thing,  see  him  everywhere, 
acknowledge  him  in  every  trial ;  for  he  sympathizes 
in  all  the  trials  of  them  that  are  his.  They  have  not  one 
pain  too  many.     Even  sufferings  will  all  work  together 

for  good  to  them'that  love  him.    I  wished  my  loved  H 

may  see,  feel,  believe,  and  enjoy  this  encouraging 
thought,  and  make  it  her  own.  Grod  love  and  bless  you. 
So  prays 

Your  affectionate  father, 
L.  K." 

On  another  occasion  he  writes  :  — 

"Dear  love, 

"The  heart  of  man  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked,  who  can  know  it?  So  said 
the  prophet  of  old,  and  so  will  every  one  say  that 
knows  the  plague  of  his  own  heart.  I  want  you  to 
employ  your  whole  time  now  in  studying  your'  heart, 
that  you  may  increasingly  feel  your  need  of  a  Saviour. 
Who  else  can  cleanse  your  heart,  but  he  who  died  for 
its  salvation.  Do  not  be  contented  with  a  little  religion, 
a  little  knowledge,  a  little  hope.  Press  forward  to  the 
enjoyment  of  a  great  and  gracious  religion,  much 
knowledge  of  Christ,- and  a  glorious  hope  full  of  immor- 
tality. I  am  indeed  most  anxious  that  you  may  now  in 
right  earnest  seek  and  find  the  Lord.  "  What  must  I  do 
to  be  saved  ?  "  is  a  great  question.    How  shall  my  deceit- 


LETTEES     FROM    HER    FATIIEE.  293 

ful  heart  be  renewed  ?  "Whenever  I  die,  whither  shall  I 
go?  are  all  questions  connected  with  it.  Ask  God  with 
all  your  heart  for  a  right  answer. 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  E." 

This  letter  was  followed  by  another  under  the  same 
circumstances. 

"Dear  Child, 

"Your  reminding  me  not  to  forget  to  write  to  you, 
leads  me  to  hope  that  you  read  my  little  notes  with  a 
desire  to  profit  by  them.  You  do  not  know  how  Anxious 
I  am  for  your  soul's  good.  What  God  designs  for  you 
in  this  present  illness,  I  know  not:  but  this  I  know, 
that  you  cannot  be  too  earnest  about  your  eternal  state. 
You  cannot  mourn  for  sin  too  deeply.  You  cannot  love 
Christ  too  affectionately.  You  cannot  trust  in  his 
blood  and  righteousness  too  firmly.  I  want  you  to  be 
a  monument  of  mercy;  a  believing,  loving,  praying 
child.  If  God  is  pleased  to  restore  you  to  health,  may 
you  adorn  the  doctrine  which  you  have  been  taught,  and 
if  he  should  see  good  to  remove  you  to  another  world, 
O  may  you  sleep  sweetly  in  Jesus.  Be  much  in  prayer : 
"  Seek  and  ye  shall  find."  Ko  favor  is  too  great  for  God 
to  grant.  You  are  past  the  age  of  childish  ignorance, 
and  are  now  an  accountable  being. 

"My  H ,  nothing  will  satisfy  me,  short  of  your 

being  a  true  child  of  God.  What  effect  have  recent 
events  produced  on  your  mind?  What  desires,  what 
fears,  what  hopes,  what  views  of  sin  and  Christ  ?  *  * 
*     *     May  God  make  you  a  joy  to 

Your  affectionate  father, 

L.  R." 

In  the  year  1825  an  offer  of  marriage  was  made  to 


294        MR.     RICHMOND'S     THIRD    DAUGHTER. 

this  daughter,  of  wliicli  Mr.  E.  expressed  his  cordial 
approbation  in  the  following  short  note. 

"  My  dear  FrienD; 

*'  On  consulting  Mrs.  E.  and   our  dear  H ,  they 

both  agreC;  that  the  beginning  of  July  is  the  earliest 
period  at  which  the  object  in  view  can  be  accomplished. 
So  leaving  it  in  their  hands,  I  simply  put  my  seal  of 
approbation  and  consent  to  their  decision ;  and  I  do  so 
with  a  heart  full  of  love  and  esteem  for  you  both. 
May  God  bless  your  prospects,  and  your  souls  in  them. 
I  love  all  my  children  too  well  not  to  say,  that  in  com- 
mitting H into  your  hands,  I  give  you  one  of  my 

cherished  treasures,  and  sources  of  domestic  endearment.  I 
feel  parting  with  my  daughter  the  more,  from  the  removal 
of  my  loved,  my  much-loved  Wilberforce.  His  death, 
with  all  its  affecting  associations,  has  had  a  peculiar,  I  trust 
a  very  useful  effect,  upon  all  my  feelings,  sentiments, 
ministrations,  prospects,  and  thoughts  for  time  and  eter- 
nity. The  subject  is  wound  up  with  my  heart's  experience, 
in  a  way  I  can  never  describe.  I  pray  Grod  to  overrule  it  for 
the  present  and  eternal  good  of  myself  and  dear  family. 
Your's  very  truly  and  affectionately, 

L.  E." 

Previous  to  the  marriage  of  his  daughter,  Mr.  E.  put 
into  her  hands  a  paper  of  directions  for  her  future  con- 
duct, which,  for  simplicity,  affection,  and  sound  practical 
wisdom,  may  be  considered  one  of  the  best  dowries  that 
a  Christian  parent  could  bestow  on  his  child. 

The  paper  is  entitled,  "Marriage  Admonitions  to 
H ,  from  her  affectionate  father,  L.  E.-' 

"My  much-loved  Daughter. 
'When  your  sister  Mary  left   her  paternal  roof,  I 


MAERIAGE    ADMONITIONS.  295 

gave  her  a  paper  of  admonitions,  which  I  requested  her 
sometimes  to  read  for  her  own  and  for  her  father's  sake. 
I  do  the  same  for  3^on,  in  the  form  of  a  friendly  string 
of  maxims,  to  regulate  your  conduct  in  your  new  and 
very  responsible  situation. 

"1st.  Aim  at  keeping  a  devoted  heart  for  God  in 
the  least  and  most  common  transactions  of  evfery  hour  ; 
as  well  as  in  those  events  which  may  seem  to  call  the 
loadest  for  manifestations  of  religious  conscience  and 
principle. 

"2d.  Pray  regularly  and  frequently,  not  seldom  and 
occasionally,  for  grace  to  live  and  die  by. 

"  3d.  Eemember  the  principles  and  professions  of  your 
father's  house,  and  everywhere  endeavour  to  preserve 
its  character,  by  consistency  in  conduct,  conversation, 
and  temper. 

"4th.  Form  no  hasty  intimacies ;  and  none  whatever 
but  such  as  may  promote  seriousness  of  heart,  tongue^ 
and  demeanour. 

"  5th.  Beware  of  cheerfulness  degenerating  into  levity, 
and  ignorance  of  the  world  into  prejudice 

"  6th.  Guard  against  hasty  judgments  of  character,  and 
above  all  against  hastily  uttering  sentiments,  and  making 
remarks  to  the  disparagement  of  others. 

"  7th.  Wherever  you  are,  in  the  first  place,  remember 
that  God's  eye  is  upon  you ;  and  then  imagine  also  that 
your  husband  and  father  are  present.  It  may  be  a  fanci- 
ful, but  it  is  a  profitable  supposition. 

"8th.  Keep  in  constant  recollection  the  wise,  pru- 
dent, and  conscientious  example  of  your  dear  mother. 
Be  cautious  when  in  religious  company,  and  endeavour 
to  sustain  a  deportment  which  may  induce  the  excellent 
of  the  earth  to  desire  your  society  for  their  own  sake  as 
well  as  yours. 

"  9th.  Particularly-  avoid  making  the  errors,  failings, 
faults,  or  follies   of  good  people,    either   in  private   or 


296      MR.    RIOH.MON-D    S    THIRD    DAUGHTER. 

public  matters,  the  subject  of  rash  and  unguarded 
remarks.  Be  known  for  charity,  forbearance,  and 
kindness 

'^lOth.  Keep  Christ's  golden  rule,  (Luke  vi.  31.)  in 
perpetual  remembrance:  it  is  the  panacea  for  most  of 
the  evils  of  life,  so  far  as  they  are  connected  with  social 
intercourse. 

^'llth.  Entertain  no  prejudices  against  nations, 
churches,  sects,  or  parties ;  they  are  the  bane  of  truth, 
charity,  and  comfort,  and  are  directly  opposed  to  the 
letter  and  spirit  of  Christianity.  You  may  and  ought 
to  have  a  conscientious,  well-founded  preference,  but 
not  one  half-formed  or  ill-formed  prejudice  against  any 
one. 

"  12th.  Be  conscientious  towards  all ;  friendly  with 
few ;  intimate  with  fewer  still ;  strictly  confidential 
with  fewest  of  all. 

"13th.  From  the  hour  you  marry,  you  assume  the 
character  of  a  matron  ;  be  not  a  childish,  girlish,  wife ; 
the  vows  of  God  are  upon  you,  sustain  their  gravity 
and  prudence  in  all  things. 

"14th.  If  circumstances  and  friendly  connections 
lead  you  into  the  superintendence  of  charitable  institu- 
tions, enter  upon  your  of&ce  with  prayer  and  considera- 
tion, and  persevere  in  the  discharge  of  its  duties  with 
patience  and  well-guided  zeal. 

"15th.  Let  no  natural  vivacity  of  temper,  no  occa- 
sionally-indulged sallies  of  humour  and  jocularity 
throw  a  shade  over  the  exercise  of  solid  principle.  Little 
foolish  things  give  a  colour  to  character,  and  are  more 
easily  caught  at  than  grave   and  good  sentiments. 

"16th.  All  eyes  are  sure  to  be  fixed  on  a  young  wife: 
beware  of,  while  you  conforr^  to,  that  sort  of  bridal 
publicity,  which  is  necessarily  connected  with  evey 
circle  of  residents  and  acquaintance. 

"17th.  Choose  female  intiraates  with  circumspection: 


MARRIAGE     A  D  MO:sri.TI  ON  S.  297 

many  civil,  hospitable,  agreeable  persons,  are  far  from 
being  improving  companions ;  we  may  owe  and  pay 
them  tlie  debt  of  civility,  kindness,  and  gratitude,  and 
yet  not  be  obliged  to  give  tbem  too  much  of  our  time 
and  affection.  Two  or  three  truly  Christian  women 
form  a  circle  suflS.ciently  large  for  profitable  friendship. 

"  18th.  In  every  circle  of  acquaintance,  however 
small,  you  will  find  more  or  less  of  party  spirit  preju- 
dice, and  too  great  freedom  of  remark  on  persons  and 
circumstances  connected  with  them;  beware  of  joining 
in  these.  Be  slow  to  judge,  rather  than  swift  to  speak ; 
the  best  Christians  often  fail  here. 

"19th.  You  are  much  given  to  laughter,  my  dear 
child :  and  many  a  hearty  laugh  I  have  enjoyed  with 
you ;  and  I  would  not  turn  your  laughter  into  sorrow ; 
but  this  propensity  may  prove  a  snare  to  you.  Watch 
and  be  jealous  of  it ;  banish  what  looks  like  giggling, 
lightness,  and  folly ;  and  cultivate  a  chastened  cheerful- 
ness and  simplicity  of  manner  in  all  companies. 

"20th.  Never  forget  that  you  are  entering  an  entire 
circle  of  strangers,  and  that  a  very  few  weeks  or  months 
will  establish  your  character  amongst  them. 

"  Once  more,  I  say,  think  of  your  father's  house  and 
reputation.  When  I  look  upon  myself  and  all  that 
belongs  to  me,  I  feel  ashamed  of  my  own  feeble,  faint 
attempts  to  serve  God,  and  adorn  his  gospel;  yet  the 
Christian  world  has  attached  to  them,  however  unde- 
servedly, a  value ;  and  by  the  name  and  character  of 
their  father,  will  my  children  be  tried  and  appreciated. 

"21st.  Keep  indelibly  engraven  on  your  heart  the 
affecting  scenes  of  last  January.  A  dying  brother's 
faithful  admonitions  —  his  last  words,  his  last  looks  of 
mortal  affection.  Our  household  never  witnessed  the 
like ;  was  never  so  tried.  The  memorials  dwell  on  my 
heart  with  increasing  poignancy.  I  say  less,  but  I  feel 
more ;  there  is  a  solemn,  silent,  softening,  and  subduing 


influence;  which  often  overwhehns  me.  May  you  retain 
a  vivid  recollection,  with  a  perpetual  blessing,  of  that 
day  when  our  Wilberforce  fled  from  earth  to  heaven. 

"22nd.  Be  especially  attentive  to  the  opinion  which 
your  demeanour  may  inspire  amongst  your  husband's 
relations.  No  doubt  he  has  praised  you  before  them: 
endeavour  to  prove  in  all  points  that  he  has  done  you 
no  more  than  justice;  much  family  peace  and  love 
depends  upon  this. 

"23rd.  There  are  many  excellent  hints  in  the  book 
entitled,  "A  Whisper  to  a  New  Married  Pair."  I 
recommend  them  to  your  perusal ;  and  there  are  many 
more  excellent  hints  to  wives  and  women  in  the  Bible, 
from  Solomon,  Paul,  and  Peter ;  study  them  Avell. 

"  24th.  When  you  think  of  your  father,  bear  with  his 
infirmities  and  pardon  his  faults,  but  remember  his  prin- 
ciples and  instructions,  so  far  as  they  have  been  agreeable 
to  the  will  of  God. 

"  25th.  Be  not  contented  with  any  thing  short  of  deep, 
devoted,  diligent,  decided  seriousness.  Make  not  the  too 
numerous  half-hearted  and  decent,  but  dubious  Christians, 
your  patterns  for  imitation.  Set  your  mark  and  standard 
very  high,  and  aim  deliberately  to  regulate  your  conduct 
by  it. 

"26th.  If  you  and  your  husband  happen  to  differ  in 
opinion  or  feeling  on  any  point,  remember  whom  you 
have  promised  to  love,  honour,  and  obey,  and  this  will 
settle  all  things. 

"27th.  Of  your  husband's  warm  affections  towards 
you,  I  entertain  no  doubt;  strive  to  preserve  them  by 
daily  elevation  of  character :  not  so  much  by  fondness 
as  by  prudence  and  dignity.  Study  his  character,  he 
will  study  yours.  May  you  both  learn  to  raise  a  fabric 
of  connubial  happiness  by  mutal  wisdom  and  love. 

"  28th.  I  trust  you  are  taught  in  the  school  of  Christ ; 
rely  not,  however,  on  the  pasl;  privileges  of  education. 


MARKIAGE    ADMONITIONS.  299 

but  seek  present  evidences,  sucli  as  will  comfort  you 
under  sadden  alarms  and  distresses,  should  they  occur. 
Try  to  get  acquainted  with  yourself  by  a  review  of  your 
whole  life,  and  often  carry  to  the  Lord,  in  prayer  and 
confidence,  the  results  of  an  examination  into  your  heart 
and  conduct. 

'^29th.  Observe  great  simplicity  and  plainness  in 
dress.  A  clergyman's  wife  should  be  a  pattern  to  others 
in  these  respects;  there  is  a  just  complaint  made  of 
many  females  who  profess  to  be  religious,  that  they  are 
far  too  showy  and  gay  in  their  outward  apparel;  remem- 
ber the  apostle's  injunction,  1  Peter  iii.  1  —  6. 

"  30th.  I^ever  think  yourself  too  old  to  learn;  the  most 
valuable  period  of  education  is  perhaps  from  twenty  to 
forty  years  of  age.  The  matured  mind  is  fittest  to  hecome 
the  little  child. 

"31st.  You  are  bidding  farewell  to  your  father's 
house,  the  home  of  your  infancy,  childhood,  and  youth  ; 
yet  the  remembrance  of  the  principles  in  which  you 
have  been  educated  should  follow  you  through  life, 
wherever  Divine  Providence  may  see  fit  to  call  you. 
May  they  be  a  guide  to  you  at  all  times,  and  a  consolation 
to  you  in  your  final  removal  from  a  sinful  and  changing 
world. 

"  Christ  has  been  made  known  to  you  fully  and 
freely ;  let  Christ  be  your  all  in  all,  both  now  and  for 
ever.  Eeceive  my  parting  advice  in  love,  and  be  as- 
sured, my  beloved  child,  it  comes  from  the  afiectionate 
heart  of 

Your  dear  father, 

L.  E." 

A  short  time  before  her  marriage.  Miss  H.  E.  paid  (v 

visit  to .     1  was  gratified  in  discovering  in  a  young 

woman,  not  yet  twenty  years  of  age,  so  much  thought 
and  good  sense  on  the  subjects  of  our  conversation.     In 


300      ME.    RICHMOND'S    THIED    DAUGHTEE. 

common  "with  the  rest  of  her  family,  she  entertained  a 
deep  sense  of  her  father's  affection,  consistency,  and  uni- 
form anxiety  for  the  spiritual  welfare  of  his  children. 

"When  I  adverted  to  her  responsibility  on  the  ground 
of  past  privileges,  and  to  the  necessity  of  a  personal  ap- 
plication of  the  principles  in  which  she  had  been  edu- 
cated, she  observed,  ^'I  know  that  religion  requires 
something  more  of  me  than  respect  for  my  father,"  and 
she  then  proceeded  to  state  to  me  some  of  the  perplex- 
ities of  her  mind  on  certain  doctrines,  which  led  me  to 
remark  that  young  people  were  apt  to  begin  where  they 
should  end,  and  as  an  old  author  has  quaintly  said,  wish 
"  to  matriculate  at  the  university  of  election,  before  they 
have  passed  through  the  grammar-school  of  repentance 
and  faith."  I  advised  her  to  lay  aside  the  consideration 
of  the  deep  things  of  Grod.  These,  said  I,  are  far  beyond 
the  range  of  a  young  disciple.  The  time  may  arrive 
when  such  subjects  may  be  studied  with  advantage,  for 
it  is  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  God  has  revealed 
anything  which  is  unserviceable  to  his  church,  or  need- 
less to  be  understood  :  but  infancy,  youth,  and  manhood 
are  not  to  be  fed  with  the  same  aliment.  I  have  no  wish 
to  conceal  from  you  that  my  mind  is  made  up  on  these 
subjects,  though  I  am  far  from  being  confident  in  the 
certainty  of  my  own  conclusions  on  points  which  are 
debateable  and  still  debated  amongst  good  and  wise  men ; 
but  r  feel  no  hesitation  in  dissuading  you  from  employ- 
ing your  thoughts  on  speculations,  which  at  present  will 
retard  rather  than  aid  your  progress.  To  ascertain  your 
conversion,  and  the  reality  of  your  piety,  by  the  plain 
practical  tests  of  the  Bible,  ought  to  be  your  chief  and 
indeed  only  concern.  Admit  that  God  calls,  and  keeps, 
and  alone  can  bring  you  to  heaven,  and  you  know  all 
that  is  essential  to  your  salvation." 

"  Yes  :  but  if  God  does  not  call"  — 


CONVEESATIONS    WITH    THE    AUTHOR.      301 

^'  Then  call  on  him ;  '  Turn  thou  me,  0  good  Lord, 
and  so  shall  I  be  turned.' " 

We  made  a  transition  to  her  approaching 'marriage. 
I  alluded  to  her  pleasing  prospect  of  being  united  to 
a  man  of  principle  and  piety,  and  to  the  satisfaction 
her  father  had  expressed  in  the  anticipation  of  that 
event. 

She  requested  me  to  converse  with  her  on  the  duties 
of  her  new  relation. 

"  You  entertain,  my  dear  young  friend,  no  doubt,  the 
usual  expectations  of  happiness  in  married  life,  and  I  do 
not  wish  to  damp  them ;  but  I  am  compelled  to  acknow- 
ledge that  I  have  not  witnessed  much  conjugal  felicity. 
People  jog  on  in  life,  because  they  cannot  do  otherwise ; 
if  they  are  not  indifferent  to  each  other,  nor  annoy  each 
other  by  contention  and  ill-humour,  they  still  appear  to 
me  to  derive  but  little  satisfaction  from  their  connexion ; 
little  in  comparison  with  what  the  relation  is  intended 
and  calculated  to  inspire." 

"  What  are  the  usual  causes  of  the  disappointment  in 
such  cases  ?  " 

^' Shall  we  say  that  there  is  want  of  af&nity  of  charac- 
ter in  the  parties  —  that  the  connexion  has  been  formed 
on  some  selfish  calculation  —  that  a  mutual  though  not 
designed  deception  has  been  practised  —  that  greater 
demands  are  made  than  a  fallen  nature  can  answer  — 
that  people  are  more  tenacious  of  their  claims  than  of 
their  duties,  and  forget  that  affection  needs  cultivation 
as  much  or  more,  after  than  hefore  marriage  ? 

^'AU  these  causes  are  fatal  to  happiness;  yet  where 
they  may  not  exist,  much  uneasiness  often  arises  in 
married  life,  from  a  disregard  to  the  ordinance  of  God 
in  that  relation.  Reference  should  be  made  to  his  rule 
and  appointment.  It  is  true  he  has  made  the  man  a 
sort  of  autocrat,  (6  deanorrig)]  the  head  of  a  house,  to 
superintend  and  direct  every  important  movement  in  it ; 

26 


/    MK.    EICHMONd's    TIIIKD    DAUGHTER. 

it  thougli  entrusted  with  the  chief  power,  he  is 
Responsible  to  G  od  for  the  use  he  makes  of  it.  Authority 
IS  granted  to  no  one  for  the  purpose  of  mere  self-gratifi- 
cation. The  trust  is  abused  when  it  is  perverted  to  this 
end.  Man  is  constituted  the  head,  for  the  good  of  the 
members;  and  he  must  rule  with  tenderness,  forbear- 
ance, and  affection.  Matthew  Henry  has  prettily  ex- 
pressed the  idea, — '[  God  made  woman  out  of  man's  side. 
Not  out  of  his  head,  to  rule ;  nor  out  of  his  feet,  to  be 
trampled  on;  but  out  of  his  rib,  which  lies  near  his 
heart,  to  be  loved  and  cherished."  And  when  man  for- 
gets that  his  reign  is  the  dominion  of  affection,  he  pro- 
vokes God,  by  an  abuse,  and  misuse  of  power,  to  resign 
his  house 'to  disorder  and  rebellion. 

"  The  wife  has  also  her  place.  She  is  equal  in  nature, 
but  not  in  relation.  She  must  shine  by  reflection ;  and 
will  suffer  an  eclipse  in  her  dignity,  and  bankruptcy  in 
her  happiness,  whenever  she  sets  up  for  herself,  and 
affects  equality  and  independence.  Her  earthly  hopes 
and  satisfactions  should  emanate  from  her  husbandj  and 
centre  in  him.  The  rule  of  duty  for  a  Christian  wife 
is,  "in  and  for  the  Lord."  Her  obedience  must  not 
vary  with  the  capricious  influences  of  feeling,  but  rest 
on  the  firmer  basis  of  conformity  to  the  ordinance  of 
God.  Affection  may  make  duty  delightful,  but  it  is 
not  the  foundation  of  it.  When  a  wife  has  just  reason 
to  disapprove  of  her  husband's  conduct,  she  may  reason 
and  remonstrate;  occasions  may  unhappily  arise  in 
which  conscience  requires  dissent,  and  even  disobedience ; 
but  in  general  it  is  a  woman's  privilege,  as  well  as  duty, 
to  call  her  husband  ''  lord,"  and  to  keep  within  the  limits 
which  God  has  wisely  and  graciously  appointed." 

My  young  friend  thanked  me  for  my  instructions, 
which  she  assured  me  were  in  unison  with  her  own 
views,  and  that  she  meant  to  enter  on  her  new  relation 
with  these  principles. 


IIEPw    SICKNESS    AND     DEATH.  303 

The  interval  between  her  marriage  and  early  death 
might  have  been  more  fully  described  by  one  who  is  best 
able  to  appreciate  her  conduct.  But  motives  of  delicacy 
and  regard  to  his  feelings  have  restrained  me  from 
making  an  application  to  him,  and  led  me  to  prefer  the 
insertion  of  an  extract  from  her  mother's  letter.  Mrs.  E. 
writes :  — 

"  Her  time  was  chiefly  spent  in  the  retired  duties  of 
domestic  life.  She  seldom  engaged  in  anything  of  a 
public  nature.  She  became  a  most  exemplary  and  con- 
scientious wife  —  a  fond  and  tender  mother  to  her  little 
boy,  whom  she  regarded  with  anxiety,  and  was  prepar- 
ing to  train  in  the  principles  and  piety  of  her  dear 
father.  Increasingly  beloved  by  her  husband,  whose 
comfort  and  happiness  on  his  return  from  his  daily 
and  laborious  occupations,  she  assiduously  studied  to 
promote — her  short  day  of  life  sweetly  glided  on,  and, 
like  the  flower  of  the  desert,  she  attracted  little  notice 
beyond  the  immediate  circle  of  the  few  friends  to  whom 
she  attached  herself." 

In  September,  1828,  Mrs.  A gave  birth  to  her 

second  child.  An  account  of  the  event  and  its  afflictive 
results,  was  communicated  at  the  time  in  the  letter  which 
follows :  — 


^'  I  saw  our  poor  H on  the  afternoon  after  the  birth 

of  her  child.  She  then  appeared  extremely  well,  and 
nursing  a  sweet  infant  with  a  mother's  joy.  On  Wed- 
nesday  she   complained   of   pain,    and    passed   a   very 

restless  night.     The  next  day  Mr.  A called  in  a 

physician,  who  seemed  uneasy  at  her  symptoms,  and 
enjoined  the  utmost  quiet,  particularly  requesting  that 
no  one  should  speak  of  her  danger,  or  say  anything  to 


804      MR.    RICHMOND'S    THIRD    DAUGHTER. 

excite  or  agitate  lier  mind.  On  Friday  she  grew  worse 
and  inquired  if  there  were  danger,  expressing  her  own 
conviction  that  she  would  not  recover.  Her  friends,  in 
compliance  with  the  strict  injunctions  of  the  medical 
man,  discouraged  her  inquiries,  and  endeavoured  to 
draw  her  mind  to  other  subjects.  But  in  reply,  she 
said,  ''  Is  this  kind,  to  keep  my  thoughts  from  eternity  ? 
I  cannot  realize  death,  and  you  will  not  help  me.  Can 
I  think  too  much  of  death?  "  She  then  inquired  for  me, 
and  desired  that  I  might  be  sent  for.  Aware  of  the  great 
change  in  her  countenance,  as  I  entered  the  room,  she 
kept  her  eyes  shut,  remarking  to  the  nurse,  "  I  will  keep 
my  eyes  shut,  I  shall  be  so  agitated  at  seeing  my  dear 
sister's  distress,  she  will  see  me  so  changed."  She  was 
indeed  changed;  her  countenance  which  only  a  week 
before  had  the  bright  hue  of  health,  was  now  pale  and 
wan.  Oh !  my  dear  Mrs.  F ,  how  awfal  is  the  exe- 
cution of  the  sentence,  '  The  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall 
die.'  Even  where  Christ  has  taken  away  the  sting,  the 
expiring  agony  of  death  is  terrible.  Is  it  not  a  strange 
infatuation  that  our  latter  moments  should  ever  be 
absent  from  our  thoughts  —  that  we  can  trifle  where 
we  ought  to  tremble,  and  be  comparatively  indifferent 
to  the  only  event  which  is  of  real  im'portance  to  us  ?  " 

^'I  was  earnestly  requested,  before  I  went  into  the 
sick  room,  to  show  no  alarm  at  her  danger,  and  to  avoid 
conversing  \ipon  death.  But  I  gazed  at  her  marble 
countenance  for  a  few  moments,  and  all  hope  of  her  life 
fled.  The  particular  appearance  of  death  cannot  be 
mistaken,  and  I  resolved  to  speak  plainly  to  her  of  her 

situation.     But  H began  of  her  own  accord.     She 

put   her   hand   into   mine  as   I   sat   down    beside   her. 

"  F ,    love,    we   meet   as   dying   sisters   this    time." 

"Dear   H- ,"   I   replied,    '' I'ell  me   how  you  feel." 

"  F ,  I  feel  that  in  a  few  hours  I  must  stand  before 

the  judgment-seat  of  Christ  and  there  render  an  account 


nER    SICKNESS     AND    DEATH.  305 

of  all  the  deeds  done  in  the  body,  and  my  sins  press 

heavy  upon   me.     F ,  talk   to   me   about   death.     I 

shall  not  recover.  I  have  felt  assured  of  this  from  the 
first,  but  no  one  will  talk  to  me  ;  even  my  dear  husband 
shrinks  from  it ;  but  I  must  speak  of  death  now.  I 
hope  you  will  converse  with  me."  I  assured  her  of  my 
intention  and  willingness  to  do  so,  and  I  began  to 
inquire  into  the  state  of  her  mind.  She  lamented  her 
sad  neglect  of  religion  in  days  past,  that  she  had  greatly 
failed  to  improve  opportunities,  and  had  grievously  put 

off  preparation  for  a  dying  hour.     "  Now,  dear  F , 

I  feel  the  value  of  time — now  I  see  why  I  was  sent  into 
this  world ;  my  whole  life  ought  to  have  been  a  pre- 
paration for   this   hour.     Oh !    dear,   dear  F ,   how 

time  has  been  trifled  away." 

'^  She  seemed  exceedingly  distressed  at  these  recollec- 
tions, and  particularly  referred  to  the  instructions  and 
example  of  her  dear  father  —  and  expressed  in  the 
strongest  terms  her  gratitude  to  him  for  teaching  her  to 

honour   religion   from  her  infancy.     ''Kow,    F ,    I 

feel  his  worth.  Oh,  what  a  father  we  had  —  how  his 
prayers  and  entreaties,  and  holy  example  rise  before 
me.  I  never,  never  can  express  my  love  for  my  father. 
On  a  death-bed  I  have  learnt  his  value" — then  adding, 
"  But  on  a  death-  bed  I  have  learnt  my  responsibilities 
for  such  a  parent.  I  shall  soon  have  to  answer  for 
many  things,  but  I  have  most  to  answer  for  in  having 
had  such  a  parent.  I  have  enjoyed  unparalleled  mer- 
cies through  childhood  and  youths  Oh !  I  have  much 
—  very  much  to   answer   for.     If  I  am   saved,    it   will 

indeed  he   a   miracle   of  miracles ;  but   F -,  I  have   a 

hope,  and  I  cannot  give  up  hope  —  Christ  is  my  hope  ; 
his  blood  can  cleanse  me  from  my  sins,  and  for  his  sake 
even  /  may  find  pardon." 

"  She  then  named  several  of  her  friends  and  relations 
whom  she  thought  would  be  shocked  at  the  intelligence 
,  26* 


306      MR.   Richmond's  third  daughter. 

of  her  early  and  unexpected  death.  She  sent  kind 
messages  to  them.  The  poor  people  of  Turvey,  and 
recollections  of  the  home  of  her  youth,  seemed  much  in 

her  thoughts,  and  deeply  affected  her.     '^F ,  give 

my  affectionate  love  to  them  all.  Turvey  is  very  dear 
to  me. " 

"  The  state  of  one  of  her  intimate  friends  distressed 
her.  ''How  I  regret  (alluding  to  this  lady)  that  our 
conversation  and  intercourse  has  been  so  little  profitable 

to  either  of  us.     I  wish  I  could  see before  I  die. 

I  have  much  I  want  to  say  to  her.  I  want  to  press 
religion  on  her  mind.  Oh  that  I  could  see  her  a  real 
Christian  before  I  die."  She  spoke  much  of  her  dear 
aunt,  who  had  kindly  nursed  her  all  the  week  with  the 
patient  tenderness  and  affection  of  a  mother.  "I  hope 
my  beloved  aunt  knows  Christ  and  his  doctrines.  I 
think  I  shall  meet  her  in  heaven."  She  entreated  me  to 
explain  the  nature  of  religion  to  the  nurse,  "  I  am  too 
weak  to  talk  to  her  now,  but  I  hope  you  will,   dear 

F :  I  am  afraid  she  has  not  a  right  knowledge  of 

religion.  She  has  been  telling  me,  there  can  be  no 
doubt  of  my  going  to  heaven,  because  I  am  so  good  and 
amiable.  Oh!  this  is  false;  this  is  error;  this  is  no 
foundation  to  build  on  for  eternity.  Explain  to  her  the 
nature  of  sin,  and  salvation  by  Christ.  I  cannot  bear 
the   thought  of  leaving  that  kind  and  faithful  creature 

in  ignorance.     I  have  been  talking  to  ■ ^,"  alluding 

to  one  of  the  servants,  ''  and  have  tried  to  show  her  the 
importance  of  preparing  for  early  death.     I  wish  I  had 

strength  to  speak  to  nurse  also."     H then  returned 

to  the  subject  of  her  own  departure :  "  Oh !  I  am 
frightened  when  I  think  of  dying.  I  have  not  accus- 
tomed myself  to  think  of  dying  as  I  ought  to  have 
done."  I  suggested  to  her  mind  what  appeared  to  me 
best  suited  to  her  case ;  that  Christ  was  our  lamp  in 
that  dreary  valley,  our  strong  consolation  in  the  bitter 


HEE    SICKNESS    AND    DEATH.  807 

pains  of  death.  She  replied,  ^'1  can  trust  Christ  with 
my  soul.  I  can  hope  he  will  pardon  and  save  it ;  but  I 
feel  alarmed  about  the  bodily  pains  of  death :  they  are 
fearful  in  prospect ;  but  I  will  not  dwell  on  the  future, 
it  disturbs  me.  I  will  trust  God."  I  said,  "When 
thou  hadst  overcome  the  sharpness  of  death," — interrupt- 
ing me  she  exclaimed  with  great  emotion,  ''  Thou  didst 
open  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  believers." 

''She  now  referred  to  Wilberforce,  and  said,  ''Poor 
Willy  Avent  through  this  awful  time  before  me,  but  all 
was  safe  and  happy  with  him.  I  trust  it  will  be  so 
with  me.  My  dear,  dear  father,  he  has  also  gone 
through  death.  None  of  us  know  what  sorrow  he 
endured  in  that  awful  hour.  He  was  indeed  a  loss  to 
us  all,  but  I  am  now  glad  h%  is  gone  before  me." 

"  The  prospect  of  leaving  her  infants  agitated  her 
mind  throughout  the  day.  "To  be  left  without  a 
mother !  Oh  this  is  hard !  Oh !  Grod  take  care  of  my 
poor  babes."  Her  chief  conversation  about  the  children 
was  with  her  husband,  and  I  believe  she  gave  him  many 
directions  about  their  education. 

"On  Saturday  my  mother  arrived;  H was  too 

ill  to  converse  with  her,  but  she  assured  her  that  her 
own  mind  was  in  peace. 

"  My  sister  appeared  to  be  dying  the  whole  of  Satur- 
day night,  but  very  gradually.  She  begged  we  would 
all  leave  the  room,  as  the  evening  came  on,  and  that  she 
might  be  left  alone  with  her  husband,  who  sat  the  whole 
of  the  night  beside  her,  to  converse  as  her  strength 
would  permit. 

"  At  six  o'clock  on  Sunday  morning,  she  desired  that 

we  might  be  called  into  the  room.     We  found  Mr. 

supporting  her  in  his  arms;    death  was  on  her  coun- 
tenance, she  breathed  with  difiiculty  and  was  quite  cold. 

She  said,  "  I  wish  to  see  Mr. "  (the  medical  man 

who  attended  her  in  her  confinement.)     When  he  came, 


808    ME.  rickmo^d's  third  daughter. 

slie  inquired  of  him,  how  long  she  might  live ;  he  said, 
''  Perhaps  three  hours."     She  requested  her  husband  to 

send  for  Mr.  W .     On  his  arrival  she  exerted  her 

last  strength  to  converse  with  him,  but  their  conversa- 
tion was  carried  on  in  so  low  a  tone  that  I  could  not 

catch  the  whole.    I  heard  my  sister  question  Mr.  W — 

most  earnestly  about  a  true  and  a  false  faith,  and 
whether  he  thought  her  faith  sincere  and  genuine.  He 
spoke  very  decidedly  of  the  safety  of  her  state,  and  she 
appeared  to  receive  comfort  from  his  opinion.  At  her 
request  he  administered  the  Lord's  Supper.  We  knelt 
round  her  bed  in  silence  and  deep  anguish.  She  clasped 
her  hands,  and  seemed  to  be  in  earnest  prayer  the  whole 

time.     At   the   conclusion   she   thanked  Mr.  ,  and 

said,  ''  You  have  refreshed  i^e  in  body  and  mind.  This 
is  the  hour  of  extremity,  but  Christ  is  all."  She  then 
became  much  oppressed,  and  struggled  hard  for  breath, 
and  in  a  little  time  asked  for  her  children.  AVhen  the 
eldest  was  brought,  she  clasped  him  for  a  moment  to 
her  breast,  and  said,  "This  boy  has  been  my  idol." 
She  next  begged  that  the  infant  might  be  brought  to 
her.  "I  want  to  see  if  I  can  bring  my  will  to  God's 
will."  The  babe  was  placed  in  her  arms,  she  looked  at 
it,  was  much  agitated,  and  exclaimed,  "Oh!  take  it 
away,  take  it  away,  I  cannot  bear  this !  O  God !  take 
care  of  my  darling  babe ! "  She  followed  it  with  her 
eyes  as  the  nurse  carried  it  away,  and  seemed  to  be  in 
prayer  for  it.  She  then  took  leave  of  each  of  us 
separately.  To  her  mother  she  said,  "  I  shall  soon  be 
with  my  dear  papa."  The  interview  with  her  husband 
was  very  affecting.     She  was  most  ardently  attached  to 

Mr. ;  she  desired  him  to  kneel  down  and  commit 

her  soul  to  God  in  the  agony  of  departure.  Presently 
ehe  whispered,  "I  cannot  hear  now."  Then — "My 
eight  is  failing — Oh!  this  is  death!"  She  begged  we 
would  keep  perfect  silence,  and  lay  her  straight  down 


HER    SICKNESS    AND     DEATH.  809 

on  the  bed.  "We  stood  motionless  and  gazing  on  her. 
She  made  several  attempts  to  speak,  but  in  vain,  but  I 
heard  her  breathe  out  very  faintly,  '^  Now  it  begins  to 
look  lovely ! "  A  moment  after,  fixing  her  eyes  upward, 
and  smiling  with  a  placid  countenance,  she  drew  a  last 
deep  breath,  and  all  was  hushed  in  silence. 

'Are  we  not  allowed,  my  dear  Mrs.  F ,  to  believe 

that  my  sister  has  joined  angels  and  archangels,  and  all 
the  company  of  heaven  ?  Her  short  and  painful  illness 
afforded  less  scope  for  the  exercises  and  evidences  of-  a 
renewed  heart  than  we  witnessed  in  the  last  hours  of  our 
beloved  Wilberforce.  Yet  here  we  have  not  been  left  to 
sorrow  as  without  hope.  '' Beloved  for  the  father's  sake," 
seemed  inscribed  in  characters  of  mercy  on  her  death- 
bed. The  effect  of  her  education  and  early  acquaintance 
with  the  principles  of  religion  could  not  be  mistaken. 
Her  father's  prayers  and  unwearied  and  affectionate 
solicitude  for  his  child's  spiritual  welfare — the  ''line 
upon  line  and  precept  upon  precept,"  which  he  pressed 
on  her  mind;  together  with  poor  Willy's  earnest  ad- 
dresses and  entreaties  in  his  dying  hour,  seemed  to  recur 
to  her  with  new  force,  and  poured  a  flood  of  light,  con- 
viction and  consolation  ^n  her  soul,  leading  her  in  peni- 
tence and  faith  to  rest  all  her  hopes  on  that  one  oblation, 
propitiation,  and  satisfaction,  which  was  once  made  for 
sin  by  the  Lamb  of  God,  in  whose  precious  blood  all 
transgression,  known  and  unknown,  is  washed  away  for 
ever. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Mrs.  F , 

I  am  your  most  affectionate,  &c." 

I  would  not  be  thought  to  cast  a  shade  on  the  hopes 
so  affectionately  expressed  in  the  above  letter,  the  sub- 
ject of  which  is,  I  trust,  a  happy  spirit  in  heaven. 
Yet  I  feel  it  necessary,  as  a  Christian  minister,  to  sub- 
join a  few  salutary  cautions,  especially  to  young  people 


810      ME.     KICHMOND'S     third     DAU  gilt  Ell. 

against  too  exclusive  a  reliance  on  what  may  take 
place  in  our  latter  moments.  The  scripture  makes  an 
appeal  to  living  hours  and  holy  fruits,  and  these  are 
the  tests  on  which  we  can  most  safely  depend.  The 
gold  passes  through  the  fire,  and  the  result  of  the 
purifying  process  alone  determines  its  character.  It  is 
the  language  of  inspiration,  "As  a  man  sows  so  shall  he 
reap." 

Let  me  remind  those  young  persons  whose  opinions 
are  correct,  but  who  are  conscious  that  their  hearts 
are  yet  far  from  God,  not  to  run  the  hazard,  the  tre- 
mendous hazard,  of  losing  their  souls,  by  delay;  nor 
expect  peace  and  safety  at  last,  unless  they  are  now 
seeking  to  lay  up  the  support  of  a  faith  which  worketh 
by  love  and  obedience.  "It  is  the  tenor  of  the  life, 
not  that  of  the  few  morbid  and  suffering  scenes  which, 
precede  dissolution,  that  fixes  the  character.  We  are 
not  authorized  by  Scripture  to  place  any  dependence  on 
the  last  periods  of  sinking  nature,  through  which  the 
Christian  may  be  called  to  pass  to  his  eternal  reward."  * 

•Life  of  the  Rev.  T.  Scott,  p.  515. 


CONCLUDING    REMARKS.  311 


CHAPTER    X. 

"  If  I  have  done  well,  and  as  is  fitting  the  story,  it  is  that  which  I  de* 
fiired ;  but  if  slenderly  and  meanly,  it  is  that  which  I  could  attain  unto." 
—Maccabees. 

In  reviewing  what  has  now  been  submitted  to  the 
public,  there  seems  little  need  of  further  comment,  since 
it  is  probable  that  the  intelligent  reader  has  anticipated 
every  suggestion  which  I  might  be  disposed  to  offer. 

Of  Mr.  Eichmond's  plans  for  his  children,  1  must 
leave  the  Christian  parent  to  form  his  own  opinion  ; 
observing  that  whether  he  adopts  them  in  whole  or  in 
part,  he  should  never  forget  that  instruction,  however 
large  or  correct,  is  not  education ;  that  true  piety  con- 
sists not  in  form,  in  its  most-  scrupulous  use ;  nor  in  a 
speculation  claiming  the  bare  assent  and  approval  of 
the  mind ;  nor  in  any  influence  occasionally  to  be  felt. 
It  is  a  principle  pervading  every  family  of  a  man's 
moral  nature.  Religion  is  estimated  far  below  its  real 
character,  when  it  is  regarded  as  an  affair  of  dutiful 
necessity :  or  as  a  medicine  taken  for  ulterior  relief : 
rather  than  as  a  well-spring  of  life  and  health,  to  which 
the  soul  turns  for  satisfaction  and  delight,  and  without 
which  it  can  neither  be  peaceful  nor  happy.  The  truths 
of  the  Bible  may  be  taught  in  their  utmost  purity,  and 
yet,  unless  their  spirit  be  transfused  into  the  affections 
of  the  heart,  and  the  habits  of  the  life,  they  will  fall 
short  of  the  effect  and  design  of  real  Christianity. 
Mere  knowledge  of  religion,  without  a  corresponding 
feeling    and   practice,   often   issues   in    a   fatal   apathy, 


312  CONCLUDING    EEMAKKS. 

and  forms  a  character  wliicli  becomes  at  last  imper- 
vious to  every  sacred  impression.  It  lias  been  well  said 
by  a  profound  moralist,  that  ''to  handle  holy  things 
without  feeling,  is  to  be  cauterized  in  the  end."  •  It  has 
been  clearly  shawn  on  what  principle  Mr.  Eichmond 
conducted  his  plan  of  education; — that  his  grand  aim 
was  to  touch  the  heart,  and  to  make  duty  and  delight 
synonymous.  Yet  some  caution  is  necessary  in  the  ex- 
clusive application  of  strictly  religious  principles.  There 
a  variety  of  motives  which  act  most  salutarily  to  present 
advantage,  and  which  impose  powerful  restraints  on  the 
impulses  of  a  corrupt  nature ;  and  if  we  strip  a  youth  of 
all  regard  for  his  interest  or  reputation,  we  expose  him, 
in  the  absence  of  higher  motives,  to  be  driven  along  by 
the  current  of  his  own  passions,  till  he  makes  shipwreck 
of  all  that  is  valuable  for  this  world  and  the  next.  To 
this  neglect  of  inferior  motives  I  am  disposed  to  ascribe 
the  misconduct  of  many  children  of  religious  parents ; 
and  it  therefore  becomes  an  inquiry  of  no  small  import- 
ance (though  of  difficult  and  delicate  character,)  whether 
the  entire  disuse  of  subordinate  influences  is  wise,  or 
even  safe  in  a  course  of  education.  May  we  not  be 
guided  in  this  inquiry  by  the  sanction  of  the  supreme 
Ruler  himself;  ''^  who,  while  he  taught  the  more  excel- 
lent way,  yet  formed  laws  for  human  conduct,  and  held 
out  motives  for  obedience,  not  always  the  best  in  them- 
selves, but  the  best  in  reference  to  the  circumstances  and 
capacities  of  his  creatures.  Nor  am  I  inclined  to  reject 
any  influence  for  the  present  advantage,  in  which  there 
is  nothing  opposed  to  the  spirit  or  the  dictates  of  religion. 
Another  circumstance  which  is  often  undervalued  in 
education,  is  the  establishment  of  good  habits ;  and  that, 
too,  prior  to  the  full  admission  of  good  principles.  Habits, 
it  is  true,  are  formed  by  a  series  of  actions,  and  actions 
must  spring  from  principles  of  some  kind ;  but  the  prin- 

*  Ezekiel  xx.  25. 


CONCLUDING    KEMiLRKS.  813 

ciple  at  first  may  be  little  more  than  custom  or  associa- 
tion :  yet  are  tlie  habits  valuable,  as  preparing  a  future 
powerful  co-operation  with  right  principle ;  for  nothing 
proves  a  greater  obstacle  to  truth  in  opinion,  than  error 
in  conduct.  There  is  a  deep  and  intimate  knowledge  of 
the  influence  of  habit  in  that  declaration  of  our  blessed 
Lord,  "If  any  man  will  do  the  will  of  my  heavenly 
Father,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine,  whether  it  be  of 
God."  John  vii.  17. 

Corrupt  practice  is  a  fruit  of  darkness,  and  increaseth 
darkness  ;  and  though  correct  habits  are  not  the  cause 
of  divine  light,  they  prepare  the  soil  for  the  heavenly 
seed,  and  clear  away  the  weeds  and  thorns  which 
would  check  its  vegetation,  and  retard  its  growth. 
The  language  which  reflects  on  human  agency  as  use- 
less, and  even  presumptuous,  until  a  divine  power  has 
commenced  its  mighty  operation,  is  not  in  accordance 
with  reason  or  Scripture ;  and  a  propensity  to  form 
systems,  and  distort  the  doctrines  of  religion,  is  often 
connected  with  indolence  and  selfishness,  which  shrink 
from  the  labour  of  instruction. 

Mr.  Eichmond's  great  care  to  regulate  the  private 
intercourse  of  his  children,  is  another  feature  in  his 
system  of  education  which  deserves  particular  atten- 
tion. It  is  evident,  from  one  remark  in  his  own 
memoranda,  that  he  intended  to  have  urged  this  topic 
in  the  projected  memoir  of  his  son :  ''  The  great  value 
of  scientific  and  rational  amusement  in  supplying 
materials  for  good  and  useful  conversation." 

The  unprofitable  manner  in  which  the  hours  of  social 
intercourse  are  too  often  spent,  has  been  lamented  by 
many.  It  may  not  be  desirable,  nor  is  it  always  pro- 
fitable, to  introduce  strictly  religious  subjects  on  every 
occasion.  Sacred  things  should  be  handled  with  rever- 
ence and  feeling,  or  we  shall  be  in  danger  of  making 
an   unholy  use  of  that  which  is   holy.     But  it  is  very 

27 


314  CONCLUDING     KEMARKS 

possible  to  converse  on  ordinary  things  in  the  spirit  of 
religion ;  we  may  aim  to  improve  ourselves  or  others, 
and  not  merely  pass  away  the  time  in  tales  of  wonder. 
We  cannot  be  walking  with  God,  in  a  heavenly  tender 
frame  of  mind,  or  with  any  just  sense  of  our  position, 
as  standing  on  the  brink  of  eternity,  while  we  propose 
to  ourselves  no  higher  object  than  amusement  —  no 
accession  of  ideas,  nor  elevation  of  devout  affections. 
Can  our  communications  "administer  grace  to  the 
hearer,"  when  the  amount,  if  written  down  would 
shame  a  wise  man,  and  distress  the  mind  of  a  sincere 
Christian  ? 

There  is  also,  with  young  and  old,  a  prevalent  and 
bad  habit,  of  talking  of  persons,  rather  than  of  things. 
This  is  seldom  innocent,  and  often  pregnant  with  many 
evils.  Such  conversation  insensibly  slides'  into  detrac- 
tion ;  and  by  dwelling  on  offences,  we  expose  our  own 
souls  to  contagion,  and  are  betrayed  into  feelings  of 
pride,  envy,  and  jealousy ;  and  even  when  we  speak 
of  others  in  terms  of  commendation,  "  we  are  sure  to 
come  in  with  a  hut  at  the  last,  and  drive  a  nail  into 
our  neighbour's  reputation." 

The  disuse  of  good  conversation  proceeds  from  poverty 
of  ideas,  no  less  than  from  want  of  heart-religon.  Per- 
sons  select  light  and  trivial  subjects,  because  they  have 
no  materials  for  a  higher  intercharge  of  sentiment.  If 
more  pains  were  taken  to  cultivate  the  mind,  there 
would  be  less  difficulty  in  speaking  to  edification ;  and 
less  need  of  having  recourse  to  amusements,  which 
differ  little  in  their  effect  and  influence  from  others, 
which,  by  common  consent,  have  been  denounced  as 
inconsistent  with  vital  religion. 

If  the  "Domestic  Portraiture"  should  fall  into  the 
hands  of  any  one  who  has  been  accustomed  to  associate 
the  idea  of  folly  and  delusion  with  a  serious  profession 
of  religion, —  he  may  observe  in  what  is  here  detailed, 


CONCLUDING    KEMARKS.  315 

that  a  sincere  Christian  may  be  a  man  of  taste  and 
intelligence ;  and  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  illiterate 
or  enthusiastic  to  believe  the  Bible,  and  regulate  a  family 
in  accordance  with  its  principles;  but  that  elegant 
accomplishments  and  a  becoming  attention  to  the  usages 
of  society,  as  far  as  they  are  innocent  or  useful,  may  be 
found  in  alliance  with  the  warmest  devotion  and  most 
conscientious  regard  to  the  laws  of  God. 

In  bidding  farewell  to  this  little  work,  which  I  have 
now  brought  to  a  conclusion,  one  thought  enters  my 
mind  and  produces  deep  emotion.  I  have  increased 
the  responsibilities  of  Mr.  Bichmond's  family,  by  hold- 
ing them  up  to  public  observation.  "Wherever  the 
present  volume  may  obtain  circulation,  their  father's 
honour,  and  —  a  still  more  important  consideration — their 
father's  principles,  will  be  ultimately  connected  with  their 
conduct,  and  the  value  of  them  be  appreciated  by  their 
effects.  His  eye  is  no  longer  upon  them,  nor  his  bright 
example  before  them  ;  neither  has  every  member  of  hia 
family  enjoyed  the  full  benefit  of  his  affectionate  and 
careful  superintendence.  But  I  am  persuaded  that  the 
traces  he  has  left,  are  too  deeply  engraven  ever  to  be 
erased  from  their  remembrance ;  and  that  a  father's 
blessing  will  follow  them  to  the  latest  hour  of  their 
earthly  pilgrimrge.  It  is  my  heart's  desire  and  prayer 
to  God,  that  they  may  retain  a  lively  recollection  of 
his  instructions,  and  continue  to  walk  worthy  of  their 
vocation,  irreprovable  and  without  rebuke,  until  they 
rejoin  their  departed  relatives,  and  with  them  ''praise 
God  for  such  a  father." 


THE    END. 


RICHMOND'S    TRACTS; 


DAIRYMAN'S    DAUGHTER, 
YOUNG  COTTAGER  OR  LITTLE   JANE 
NEGRO    SERVANT,    &c. 


Y     TH 


Rev.  LEGH  RICHMOND,  A.M. 

LilB    RECTOR    or    TURVEV,     BEDFORDSHIRE 


IDITED 

BY  THE  EEV.  JOHN  AYEE,  A.M. 


OTTTlf§lT7l 


NEW  YORK: 

PROTESTANT  EPISCOPAL  SOCIETY  FOR  THE   PROMOTION  OP 

EVANGELICAL  KNOWLEDGE. 

NO.    11    BIBLE    HOUSE,    AS  TOR    PLACE. 

1859. 


CONTENTS 


Introduction, vii 

The  Dairyman's  Daughter,         -        -       -        -    19 
The  Negro  Servant,       -        -        -        - '      -        115 

The  Young  Cottager, 147 

The  Cottage  Conversation  -        -        -       209 

A  Yisit  to  the  Infirmary,  -        -       -       -        -  215 


B.  Douglaa  Wyeth,  Agt.,  Stereotyper, 
No.  7  Pear  St.,  Philadelphia. 


WILLIAM    WILBEEFOECE,    ESQ., 
THIS   LITTLE   WORK, 

DESIGNED  TO  BEAB  A   TESTIMOXT,   DRAWN   FBOM   REAL   FACTS  AND 
OCCURRENCES, 

TO    THE 

INFINITE  VALUE  OF  CHRISTIAN  TRUTH, 
When  received  ia  the  Heart  and  exemplified  in  the  Conduct, 
IS   DEDICATED, 

AS   A   TOKEN   OF   GRATEFUL   AND   AFFECTIONATE    REGARD,    WHICH   THB 

AUTHOR    ENTERTAINS   TOWARDS   A   CHARACTER 

SO   LONG   AND   JUSLY  APPROVED, 

AS 

THE  FAITHFUL  MONITOR  OF  THE  RICH,  THE  TRIED 

FRIEND  OF  THE  POOR,  THE  UNWEARIED 

SUPPORTER  OF  RELIGION,  AND  THE 

ACKNOWLEDGED  BENEFACTOR 

OF  MANKIND. 


INTRODUCTION. 


It  has  been  thouglit  that  an  enlarged  edition  of  the 
'' Anjs'ALS  of  the  Poor,"  might  not  be  unacceptable  to 
the  public ;  and  that  a  brief  sketch  of  the  Author's  life 
might  with  advantage  be  appended.  It  has  fallen  to  my 
lot  to  superintend  such  a  publication. 

The  "  Dairyman's  "Daughter"  is  enlarged  with  a  num 
ber  of  letters,  &c.,  written  by  herself  to  her  relatives 
The  originals  of  these  have  been  preserved  in  the  Au 
thor's  possession.  There  are  also  added  two  letters  ad 
dressed  to  her  by  the  Author.  I  have  judged  it  expedi 
ent  not  to  interrupt  the  course  of  the  narrative,  and 
have  therefore  thrown  together  the  additional  matter  in 
the  form  of  an  appendix. 

The  "Young  Cottager,"  and  the  "Kegro  Servant,"  are 
reprinted  without  alteration,  from  the  last  edition. 

Two  little  pieces  from  Mr.  Kichmond's  pen,  inserted 
in  the  first  volume  of  the  Christian  Guardian,  now  for 
the  first  time  accompany  his  larger  tracts.  They  are 
entitled  "The  Cottage  Conversation,"  and  "A  visit  to 
the  Infirmary." 


I  HAVE  a  melancholy  satisfaction  in  sketching  the  life 
of  my  lamented  father-in-law,  and  I  willingly  embrace 
the  opportunity  of  affectionately  paying  a  public  tribute 
to  the  memory  of  one  so  valued  and  beloved.  I  pur- 
posely refrain  from  intruding  into  the  province  of  the 
biographer:  a  complete  memoir  of  Mr.  E.  having  been 

vii 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

already  given  to  the  public.  My  aim  is  only  to  catch 
two  or  three  prominent  features  of  his  character,  intro- 
ducing just  so  much  of  narration  as  may  serve  to  render 
my  observations  intelligible. 

Legh  Eichmond  was  born  at  Liverpool,  Jan.  29,  1772. 
He  was  the  eldest  child  of  Dr.  Henry  Eichmond,  the 
descendant  of  an  ancient  and  honourable  family.  A 
remarkable  casualty  befell  him  in  his  childhood,  the 
effects  of  which  he  never  recovered.  At  a  very  early 
age,  in  leaping  from  a  wall,  he  contracted  an  injury  in  his 
left  leg,  which  issued  in  incurable  lameness.  It  is  some- 
what singular  that  an  accident  nearly  similar  occurred 
to  a  younger  brother,  and  also  to  his  second  son.  Each 
of  them,  in  infancy,  fell  from  an  open  window.  The 
former  was  killed,  and  the  latter  was  ever  after  afflicted 
in  the  same  limb  with  the  same  kind  of  lameness  as  his 
father. 

After  a  private  preparatory  education,  Legh  Eichmond 
was  admitted  a  member  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 
While  an  under-graduate,  he  pursued  his  studies  with  a 
talent  and  a  zeal  which  gave  fair  promise  that  the  highest 
honours  of  his  year  were  not  beyond  his  reach.  These 
hopes  were  however  blighted  by  a  severe  illness,  which 
was  partly  owing  to  his  anxious  and  unremitted  applica- 
tion. Precluded  by  this  cause,  from  engaging  in  the 
honourable  contention  of  the  senate-house,  he  received 
what  is  academically  termed  an  aegrotat  degree;  com- 
mencing B.A.  in  1794 ;  and  with  some  intermissions  he 
resided  in  the  university  three  years  longer. 

We  are  now  to  view  Mr.  Eichmond  in  a  totally  differ- 
ent character.  In  the  summer  of  1797,  he  became,  within 
the  space  of  a  very  few  weeks,  (to  borrow  his  own 
words,)  "academically  a  master  of  arts,  domestically  a 
husband,  parochially  a  deacon."  He  had  been  originally 
destined  to  the  law ;  but  having  imbibed  a  distaste  for 
that  profession,  his  attention  was  subsequently  directed 


INTKODUCTION.  IX 

to  the  churcli,  and  lie  was  now  admitted  to  the  sacred 
office.  Brading,  a  secluded  village  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
was  the  scene  of  his  earliest  pastoral  labours.  He  was 
ordained  to  the  curacy  of  this  place  and  the  little  adjoin- 
ing village  of  Yaverland ;  and  in  Yaverland  church  he 
delivered  his  first  sermon. 

These  scenes  will  long  be  dear  to  Christian  remem- 
brance. Lovely  in  themselves,  and  consecrated,  by  the 
pen  of  Legh  Eichmond,  they  will  be  viewed  with  no 
ordinary  feelings :  and  he  who  disdains  not  the  '*  simple 
annals  of  the  poor,"  while  he  treads  the  sod  which  covers 
"little  Jane,"  or  visits  the  lowly  cottage  of  the  ''Dairy- 
man," will  not  fail  to  glorify  God  for  those  who  here 
have  slept  in  Jesus,  and  "  though  dead,  yet  speak." 

At  the  time  of  his  ordination,  Mr.  Eichmond  saw  little 
of  the  magnitude  of  that  work  in  which  he  was  engaging. 
As  yet,  he  was  himself  but  little  acquainted  with  the 
things  of  God,  and  was  therefore  little  qualified  to  be- 
come the  spiritual  instructor  of  others.  His  habits  of 
life  were  decorous  and  exemplary,  his  pulpit  composi- 
tions interesting  and  moral,  but  as  yet  he  was  little 
imbued  with  the  spirit  of  vital  godliness.  This  man,  how- 
ever, (may  it  not  be  said  ?)  was  "  a  chosen  vessel  to  the 
Lord."  Ere  many  months  elapsed,  a  complete  revolution 
was  effected  in  his  religious  sentiments.  This  is,  under 
God,  mainly  to  be  ascribed  to  the  perusal  of  Mr.  Wilber- 
force's  "  Practical  Yiew  of  Christianity,"  He  now  with 
enlightened  understanding  and  decisive  zeal,  set  himself 
to  "  do  the  work  of  an  evangelist."  Not  only  was  he  in 
the  pulpit,  instant  in  "  preaching  the  word,"  but  he  was 
also  to  be  found  with  his  pastoral  admonitions  in  the 
dwellings  of  his  flock,  and  could  desend,  with  sweet  and 
winning  gentleness,  to  "  feed  his  lambs."  The  fruit  of 
his  labours  was  speedily  apparent.  "  Little  Jane  "  was 
the  first  flower  which  bloomed  from  the   good  seed  he 


X  INTKODUCTION". 

The  circumstances  attendant  -upon  his  intercourse  with 
the  subjects  of  the  Annals  will  be  found  narrated  in  the 
several  tracts.  I  only  observe  in  this  place,  that  "■  little 
Jane  "  died  January  80th.  1799,  in  her  fifteenth  year : 
that  the  conversations  with  the  "Negro  Servant"  were 
held  during  the  summer  of  1803,  and  that  the  death  of 
the  "  Dairyman's  Daughter  "  took  place  May  30th,  1801 : 
her  age  was  thirty-one. 

After  a  residence  of  about  seven  years  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  where  his  labours  had  been  evidently  and  largely 
blessed,  Mr.  Richmond  removed  to  London.  He  was 
here  to  take  a  share  in  the  duties  of  the  Lock  Chapel. 
The  very  first  sermon  he  delivered  from  the  pulpit  of 
this  place  was,  there  is  every  reason  to  belive,  under 
God's  blessing,  the  instrumental  means  of  effecting  a 
saving  change  in  the  heart  of,  at  least,  one  individual. 

Scarcely,  however,  was  he  well  settled  in  this  new 
scene,  when  the  good  providence  of  God  removed  him  to 
the  rectory  of  Turvey,  Bedfordshire,  He  was  presented 
to  this  living  by  Miss  Fuller,  in  1805. 

Long  will  the  name  of  Richmond  be  venerated  at 
Turvey  ;  long  will  the  savour  of  his  affectionate  ministra- 
tions abide  in  the  hearts  of  his  mourning  flock.  A  singular 
blessing  still  attended  him.  From  the  earliest  to  lite- 
rally the  latest,  his  preaching  was  visibly  "  in  demonstra- 
tion of  the  Spirit  and  of  power." 

It  was  during  his  residence  at  Turvey,  that  most  of 
Mr.  Richmond's  publications  were  undertaken.  He  had 
previously  printed  two  or  three  single  semons ;  *  but  it 
was  at  Turvey  that  his  great  work,  "  The  Fathers  of  the 
English  church,"  was  carried  on.  For  the  superinten- 
dance  of  this  important  undertaking  he  was  eminently 
qualified.     Accident,  or  I  would  rather  say,  a  remark- 

*  These  were,  a  Fast-day  Sermon,  and  one  On  the  CIobo  of  the  Year, 
preached  at  Brading ;  and  a  sermon  on  Cru.iUy  to  iho  Brute  Creation, 
delivered  at  Bath. 


INTRODUCTION.  XI 

able  providence^  had,  in  tlie  first  instance,  introduced 
him,  while  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  to  the  writings  of  our  ear- 
lier and  greatest  theologians ;  and  the  study  of  them  he 
had  ever  since  zealously  prosecuted.  To  a  familiar  ac- 
quaintance with  the  works  of  these  divines,  Mr.  Kich- 
mond  united  the  greatest  impartiality  and  judgment  in 
forming  his  selections.  His  work  therefore  presents,  in  a 
comparatively  small  compass,  a  large  proportion  of  the 
most  valuable  of  the  remains  of  our  martyrs  an  1  confes- 
3ors.  It  is  not  perhaps  too  much  to  say  that  it  has  been 
mainly  instrumental  in  awakening  to  the  reformers  that 
attention  and  interest  with  which  they  are  now  increas- 
ingly regarded. 

It  was  during  his  residence  at  Turvey  also  that  Mr. 
Hichmond  drew  up  the  narratives  which  are  contained  in 
the  present  volume.  They  were  originally  (in  substance) 
inserted  in  the  earlier  numbers  of  the  Christian  Guardian. 
Having  here  attracted  considerable  attention,  they  were 
then  published  in  the  form  of  separate  tracts,  and  after- 
wards, with  considerable  augmentations  in  the  first  edition 
of  this  volume. 

It  may  appear  perhaps  unnecessary  to  pronounce  an 
opinion^  on  productions,  which  have  been  circulated  by 
millions,  and  translated  into  twenty  languages;  and 
which,  in  a  multitude  of  well-authenticated  instances, 
have  been,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  signally  effective  of 
good.  I  cannot  however  forbear  to  say,  that  in  Legh  Rich- 
mond's writings,  more  than  in  those  of  perhaps  any  other 
author,  you  behold  the  character  of  the  man.  His  beau- 
tiful simplicity,  his  lively  imagination,  his  tenderness  of 
feeling,  his  devoted  piety,  were  the  characteristics  of  the 
man  which  enshrined  him  in  the  affections  of  all  who 
knew  him.  And  who  can  read  a  page  of  his  Annals, 
and  not  recognise  in  those  interesting  narratives  the 
same  simple  plainness,  the  same  glowing  fancy,  the  same 
touching  pathos,  the  same  ardent  piety  ?     In  sketching 


XU  INTRODUCTION. 

his  villagers,  lie  has  unconsciously  delineated  himself. 
He  admits  us  to  his  retirement  and  meditations,  shows 
us  his  hopes  and  fears,  and  presents  us  with  all  the 
secret  workings  of  his  soul.  We  admire  the  gifted 
minister  of  God,  who  in  the  deep  humility  of  his  spirit 
disdained  not  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  admonition,  though 
it  reached  him  from  the  lowly  cottage ;  we  cannot  with- 
hold our  affection  from  the  man. 

If  I  were  called  on  to  say  which  of  the  narratives  I 
prefer,  I  should  most  probably  be  inclined  to  fix  on  that 
of  the  ''  Young  Cottager."  There  is  something,  in  my 
judgment,  irresistibly  engaging  in  the  character  and 
history  of  that  simple  girl.  I  can  venerate  the  high  and 
exalted  piety  of  the  "Dairyman's  Daughter,"  who,  with 
a  masculine  strength  of  understanding,  had  ever  her 
word  of  counsel  even  for  the  minister;  but  I  love  the 
little,  backward,  neglected,  retiring  child,  who  starts  forth 
at  once  in  all  the  moral  beauty  of  Christian  attainment. 
There  is  something  too  in  the  condition  of  Jane  which 
seems  especially  to  call  for  our  sympathy.  The  Dairy- 
man's Daughter  was  constantly  surrounded  by  a  circle 
of  affectionate  relatives,  who  regarded  her  with  reverence 
and  love ;  while  Jane's  religion  was,  at  best,  little  appre- 
ciated, often  despised  and  ridiculed  by  her  family,  and 
her  last  hours  were  disturbed  by  sounds  of  blasphemy, 
proceeding  from  a  parent.  Many  of  the  incidents  also 
of  this  tale  might  be  appealed  to  as  conferring  upon  it  a 
peculiar  interest.  The  scene,  for  example,  where  Mr. 
Eichmond,  on  his  first  visit  to  her,  while  speaking  of  the 
good  news  of  the  gospel,  enquires,  "who  brings  this 
good  news?"  and  is  answered,  "Sir,  you  brought  it  to 
me;"  I  knoAV  not  who  can  read  unmoved.  Her  parting 
benediction  too  —  "  God  bless  and  reward  you"— when 
with  an  unexpected  exertion  she  threw  her  arms  around 
him  and  expired — is  inexpressibly  affecting. 

I  close  what  I  have  to  say  on  the  subject  of  these 


INTRODUCTION  Xlll 

tractS;  by  adding,  that  a  few  years  ago,  two  gravestones 
were  erected  in  the  churchyards  of  Arreton  and  Brading 
respectively,  to  the  memory  of  the  "  Dairyman's  Daugh- 
ter," and  the  "Young  Cottager." 

On  the  former  are  inscribed  the  following  lines :  the 
composition  of  a  lady. 

"  Stranger,  if  e'er  by  chance  or  feeling  led, 
Upon  this  hallowed  earth  thy  footsteps  tread, 
Turn  from  the  contemplation  of  the  sod, 
And  think  on  her  whose  spirit  rests  with  God. 
Lowly  her  lot  on  earth  —  but  he  who  bore 
Tidings  of  grace  and  blessings  to  the  poor 
Gave  her,  his  truth  and  faithfulness  to  prove, 
The  choicest  treasures  of  his  boundless  love  :  — • 
Faith,  that  dispelled  affliction's  darkest  gloom, 
Hope,  that  could  cheer  the  passage  to  the  tomb, 
Peace,  that  not  hell's  dark  legions  could  destroy, 
And  love,  that  filled  the  soul  with  heavenly  joy. 
Death  of  its  sting  disarmed,  she  knew  no  fear. 
But  tasted  heaven,  e'en  while  she  lingered  here : 
Oh  ;  happy  saint!  may  we  like  thee  be  blest. 
In  life  be  faithful,  and  in  death  find  rest." 

The  following  epitaph  is  from  Mr.  Eichmond's  pen. 

"  Ye  who  delight  the  power  of  God  to  trace. 
And  mark  with  joy  each  monument  of  grace, 
Tread  lightly  o'er  this  grave,  as  you  explore 
'The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor.' 

"  A  child  reposes  underneath  this  sod, 
A  child  to  memory  dear,  and  dear  to  God : 
Rejoice,  yet  shed  the  sympathetic  tear, 
Jane,  '  the  Young  Cottager,'  lies  buried  here." 

During  his  residence  at  Turvey,  Mr.  Eichmond  became 
extendedly  known  to  the  public  as  the  cordial  friend, 
and  ready  advocate  of  the  different  religious  societies, 
which  have  within  the  last  thirty  years  grown  up 
amongst  us.     His  persuasive  and  pathetic  eloquence  in 

2 


XIV  INTEODUCTION. 

the  pulpit  or  on  the  platform,  wlien  awaking  Christian 
sympathy  in  behalf  of  the  idolatrous  Gentile,  or  the 
unbelieving  Jew,  will  not  be  readily  forgotten  by  the 
multitudes  who  have,  so  often,  delighted  and  instructed, 
hung  upon  his  lips.  I  believe  his  earliest  appearance  in 
this  character,  was  on  the  ninth  anniversary  of  the 
Church  Missionary  Society,  before  whom  he  was  ap- 
pointed, in  1809,  to  preach  their  annual  sermon.  This 
sermon  may  be  appealed  to  as  a  fair  and  characteristic 
specimen  of  his  powers  in  the  pulpit ;  though  I  must  be 
allowed  to  say,  that  to  his  flowing  and  harmonious  lan- 
guage, his  graceful  delivery,  and  sweet  expression  of 
features,  beaming  with  love  to  God,  and  good- will  to 
men,  imparted  a  charm  which  the  mere  reader  of  a 
printed  sermon  can  by  no  means  duly  appreciate. 

His  preaching,  for  a  long  series  of  years,  was  alto- 
gether extemporaneous.  His  ready  utterance,  his  exu- 
berant fancy,  his  aptness  of  illustration,  his  deep  know- 
ledge of  divine  things,  rendered  his  sermons  always 
interesting  and  useful.  Perhaps  he  did  not,  upon  common 
occasions,  allow  himself  sufficient  previous  study  ;  but  if 
this  were  his  fault,  he  acted  upon  principle,  "  Why,"  he 
would  often  say,  "  why  need  I  labour,  when  our  simple 
villagers  are  far  more  usefully  instructed  in  my  plain, 
easy,  familiar  manner  ?  The  only  result  would  be,  that 
I  should  address  them  in  a  style  beyond  their  compre- 
hension." 

His  appearance  on  the  platform  of  a  public  meeting, 
was  universally  hailed  with  pleasure.  His  ready  adapta- 
tion of  passing  incidents,  the  suavity  of  his  addresses, 
sometimes  solemn,  sometimes  even  jocose,  interspersed 
with  interesting  narratives,  which  he  could  so  well 
relate,  deservedly  placed  him  high  m  public  esteem. 

I  ought,  perhaps  to  state,  that  in  1814,  Mr.  Eichmond 
was  appointed  chaplain  to  the  late  Duke  of  Kent,  by 
whom  he  was  honoured  with  a  share  of  his  Koyal  High 


INTRODUCTION.  XV 

ness's  friendship.  In  1817  Mr.  R.  was  presented  by  tlie 
late  Emperor  Alexander  of  Russia,  with  a  splendid  ring, 
as  a  testimony  of  the  approbation  with  which  his  Impe- 
rial Majesty  viewed  the  narratives  in  this  volume. 

Many  peaceful  years  were  passed  at  Turvey.  Happy 
in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  no  man  more  excelled  as  a 
pattern  of  domestic  virtues  than  Legh  Richmond. 

At  length,  in  1825,  Mr.  R.'s  domestic  happiness  sus- 
tained a  severe  blo^  by  'the  death  of  his  second  son,  a 
youth  in  his  nineteenth  year.  For  this  beloved  child,  he 
had  fostered  many  a  fond  hope  and  anxious  expectation, 
and  beheld  with  all  a  father's  joy,  "non  flosculos — sed 
jam  certos  atque  deformatos  fructus."  This  fair  flower 
was  withered  by  consumption,  and  the  bereaved  parent, 
though  he  submitted  as  a  Christian,  yet  sorrowed  as  a 
man.  In  a  few  short  months  the  stroke  was  repeated. 
Intelligence  arrived  that  his  eldest  son,  who  had  been 
absent  many  years,  had  died  on  his  voyage  from  India 
to  England. 

These  afflictive  dispensations  had  a  marked  and  pecu- 
liar effect  upon  Legh  Richmond.  He  who  used  to  be 
the  life  of  the  domestic  and  social  circle,  would  now  be 
silent  and  abstracted:  yet  it  was  not  the  morbid  gloom 
of  a  repining  heart,  it  was  rather  the  solemnity  of  con- 
viction that  he  should  ere  long  rejoin  his  lamented 
children.  His  bodily  health  too  seemed  in  some  measure 
decaying.  His  multitude  of  pastoral  duties  were  too 
heavy  for  his  strength.  For  the  last  twelve  months  of 
his  life  he  was  troubled  with  an  irritating  cough,  which 
seemed  to  indicate  an  affection  of  the  lungs.  At  length, 
(March  1827,)  he  contracted  a  violent  cold,  which  issued 
in  pleurisy ;  from  which  however  he  shortly  appeared  to 
be  recovering.  During  all  this  time,  when  certainly  no 
immediate  danger  was  apprehended,  he  was  peacefully 
and  quietly  setting  his  house  in  order.     To  his  family 


XVI  INTEODUCTION. 

lie  knew  the  idea  of  separation  would  be  agony:  he 
therefore  scarcely  hinted  to  them  what  he  felt  was  nigh 
at  hand:  but  to  a  clerical  friend,  he,  in  striking  words, 
professed  that  simple  reliance  on  the  atonement  of  Christ, 
which  alone  can  cheer  and  support  the  soul  in  the  hour 
of  dissolution.  It  soon  became  evident  to  those  around 
him,  that  the  flood  of  life  was  ebbing  calmly  yet  fast : 
and  at  last,  (May  8,)  without  pain  or  struggle,  the  ready 
spirit  sweetly  and  softly  passed  from  her  mortal  tene- 
ment :  and  Legh  Kichmond  slept  in  Jesus. 

Farewell,  dear  friend  and  father !  Yery  pleasant  were 
the  hours  and  years  of  our  communion:  but  they  are 
passed  away,  and  the  savour  only,  sad  yet  sweet,  re- 
mains. ''Farewell,  dear  friend,  till  the  morning  of  an 
eternal  day  renew  our  personal  intercourse!"  May  / 
meet  thee  in  a  better  world. 

I  cannot  but  connect  the  closing  hours  of  my  beloved 
friend,  with  that  affecting  prayer  which  he  has  breathed 
in  the  Young  Cottager,  (Part  lY.)  He  had  been  describ- 
ing the  useful  course  and  peaceful  termination  of  a  little 
rivulet,  which  glides  through  a  very  lovely  glen,  by 
which  he  was  meditating.  "  May  my  course  be  like  unto 
thine,  thou  little  rivulet !  Though  short  be  my  span  of 
life,  yet  may  I  be  useful  to  my  fellow-sinners,  as  I  travel 
onwards!  Let  me  be  a  dispenser  of  spiritual  support 
and  health  to  many !  Like  this  stream  may  I  prove  the 
poor  man's  friend  by  the  way,  and  water  the  souls  that 
thirst  for  the  river  of  life,  wherever  I  meet  them !  And 
if  it  pleases  thee,  0  my  God,  let  me  in  my  latter  end  be 
like  this  brook!  It  calmly,  though  not  quite  silently 
flows  through  this  scene  of  peace  and  loveliness,  just 
before  it  enters  the  sea.  Let  me  thus  gently  close  my 
days  likewise ;  and  may  I  not  un usefully  tell  to  others 
of  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  my  Saviour,  till  I  arrive  at 
the  vast  ocean  of  eternity." 


INTRODUCTION.  XVll 

That  prayer  was  surely  answered.  He  did  tell  to  men, 
with  abundant  blessing,  of  the  goodness  and  mercy  of 
his  Saviour :  he  did  thus  gently  close  his  days. 

Soldier  of  Christ,  well  done  ! 

Praise  be  thy  new  employ  ; 
And  while  eternal  ages  run, 

Rest  in  thy  Saviour's  joy. 


Islington,  Feb.  2lst,  1828. 


J.  A. 


2* 


THE 


DAIRYMAN^S  DAUGHTER, 


PAET  I. 

It  is  a  delightful  employment  to  discover  and  trace  the 
operations  of  divine  grace,  as  they  are  manifested  in  the 
dispositions  and  lives  of  God's  real  children.  It  is 
peculiarly  gratifying  to  observe  how  frequently,  among 
the  poorer  classes  of  mankind,  the  sunshine  of  mercy 
beams  upon  the  heart,  and  bears  witness  to  the  image 
of  Christ  which  the  Spirit  of  God  has  impressed  there- 
upon. Among  such  the  sincerity  and  simplicity  of  the 
Christian  character  appear  encumbered  by  those  obsta- 
cles to  spirituality  of  mind  and  conversation,  which  too 
often  prove  a  great  hinderance  to  those  who  live  in  the 
higher  ranks.  Many  are  the  difficulties  which  riches, 
worldly  consequence,  high  connections,  and  the  luxu- 
rious refinements  of  polished  society,  throw  in  the  way 
of  religious  profession.  Happy  indeed  it  is  (and  some 
such  happy  instances  I  know)  where  grace  has  so  strik- 
ingly supported  its  conflict  with  natural  pride,  self  impor- 
tance, the  allurements  of  luxury,  ease,  and  worldly  opin- 
ion, that  the  noble  and  mighty  appear  adorned  with 
genuine  poverty  of  spirit,  self-denial,  humble-mindeness 
and  deep  spirituality  of  heart. 

But,  in  general,  if  we  want  to  see  religion  in  its  most 
simple  and  pure  character,  we  must  look  for  it  among  the 
poor  of  this  world,  who  are  rich  in  faith.     How  often 


20  THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER. 

is  the  poor  man's  cottage  the  palace  of  God !  Many  can 
truly  declare,  that  they  have  there  learned  the  most  valu- 
able lessons  of  faith  and  hope,  and  there  witnessed  the 
most  striking  demonstrations  of  the  wisdom,  power,  and 
goodness  of  God, 

The  character  which  the  present  narrative  is  designed 
to  introduce  to  the  notice  of  my  readers,  is  given /rom 
real  life  and  circumstance :  I  first  became  acquainted  with 
her  by  receiving  the  following  letter,  which  I  transcribe 
from  the  original  now  before  me. 

"Kev.  Sir, 

"  I  take  the  liberty  to  write  to  you.     Pray 
excuse  me,  for  I  have  never  spoken  to  you.     But  I  once 

heard  you,  when  you  preached  at church.   I  believe 

you  are  a  faithful  preacher  to  warn  sinners  to  flee  from 
the  wrath  that  will  be  revealed  against  all  those  that  live 
in  sin,  and  die  impenitent.  Pray  go  on  in  the  strength 
of  the  Lord.  And  may  he  bless  you,  and  crown  your 
labour  of  love  with  success,  and  give  you  souls  for  your 
hire! 

"The  Lord  has  promised  to  be  with  those  whom  he 
calls  and  sends  forth  to  preach  his  word  to  the  end  of 
time :  for  without  him  we  can  do  nothing.  I  was  much 
rejoiced  to  hear  of  those  marks  of  love  and  affection  to 
that  poor  soldier  of  the  S.  D.  militia.  Surely  the  love 
of  Christ  sent  you  to  that  poor  man :  may  that  love  ever 
dwell  richly  in  you  by  faith !  may  it  constrain  you  to 
seek  the  wandering  souls  of  men  with  the  fervent  desire 
to  spend  and  be  spent  for  his  glory  !  May  the  unction 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  attend  the  word  spoken  by  you  with 
power,  and  convey  deep  conviction  to  the  hearts  of  your 
hearers!  May  many  of  them  experience  the  divine 
change  of  being  made  new  creatures  in  Christ ! 

"  Sir,  be  fervent  in  prayer  with  God  for  the  conviction 
and  conversion  of  sinners.     His  power  is  great,  and  who 


THE    daieyman's   daugiitee.  21 

can  withstand  it  ?  He  has  promised  to  answer  the  prayer 
of  faith,  that  is  put  up  in  his  Son's  name.  '  Ask  what 
ye  will,  it  shall  be  granted  you.'  How  this  should 
strengthen  our  faith  when  we  are  taught  by  the  word 
and  the  Spirit  how  to  pray !  O  that  sweet  inspiring 
hope !  how  it  lifts  up  the  fainting  spirits,  when  we  look 
over  the  precious  promises  of  God !  What  a  mercy  if 
we  know  Christ  and  the  power  of  his  resurrection  in  our 
own  hearts !  Through  faith  in  Christ  we  rejoice  in  hope, 
and  look  up  in  expectation  of  that  time  drawing  near, 
when  all  shall  know  and  fear  the  Lord,  and  when  a 
nation  shall  be  born  in  a  day. 

^'What  a  happy  time,  when  Christ's  kingdom  shall 
come !  then  shall  '  his  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is 
in  heaven.'  Men  shall  be  daily  fed  with  the  manna  of 
his  love,  and  delight  themselves  in  the  Lord  all  the  day 
long.  Then  what  a  paradise  below  will  they  enjoy! 
How  it  animates  and  enlivens  my  soul  with  vigour  to 
pursue  the  ways  of  God,  that  I  may  even  now  bear  some 
humble  part  in  giving  glory  to  God  and  the  Lamb  ! 

''  Sir,  I  begin  to  write  this  on  Sunday,  being  detained 
from  attending  on  public  worship.     My  dear  and  only 

sister,  living^ as  a  servant  with  Mrs. ,  was  so  ill,  that 

I  came  here  to  attend  in  her  place  and  on  her.     But  now 
she  is  no  more. 

"  I  was  going  to  entreat  you  to  write  to  her  in  answer 
to  this ;  she  being  convinced  of  the  evil  of  her  past  life, 
and  that  she  had  not  walked  in  the  ways  of  God,  nor 
sought  to  please  him.  But  she  earnestlydesiredtodoso. 
This  makes  me  have  a  comfortable  hope  that  she  is  gone 
to  glory,  and  that  she  is  now  joining  in  sweet  concert 
with  the  angelic  host  in  heaven,  to  sing  the  wonders  of 
redeeming  love.  I  hope  I  may  now  "write,  '  Blessed  are 
the  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord.' 

"  She  expressed  a  desire  to  receive  the  Lord's  Supper 
and  commemorate  his  precious  death  and  sufferings.     I 


22  THE    DAIKYMAISr's'DAUGHTEB. 

told  lier  as  well  as  I  was  able,  what  it  was  to  receive 
Christ  into  her  heart;  but  as  her  weakness  of  body 
increased,  she  did  not  mention  it  again.  She  seemed 
quite  resigned  before  she  died.  I  do  hope  she  is  gone 
from  a  world  of  death  and  sin  to  be  with  God  for  ever. 

"  Sir,  I  hope  you  will  not  be  offended  with  me,  a  poor 
ignorant  person,  to  take  such  a  liberty  as  to  write  to  you. 
But  I  trust,  as  you  are  called  to  instruct  sinners  in  the 
ways  of  God,  you  will  bear  with  me,  and  be  so  kind  to 
answer  this  ill- wrote  letter,  and  give  me  some  instruc- 
tions. It  is  my  heart's  desire  to  have  the  mind  that  was 
in  Christ,  that  when  I  awake  up  in  his  likeness,  then  I 
may  be  satisfied. 

"  My  sister  expressed  a  wish  that  you  might  bury  her. 
The  minister  of  our  parish,  whither  she  will  be  carried, 

cannot  come.     She  will  lie  at .    She  died  on  Tuesday 

morning,  and  will  be  buried  on  Friday  or  Saturday 
(whichever  is  most  convenient  to  you)  at  three  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon.  Please  to  send  an  answer  by  the  bearer, 
to  let  me  know  whether  you  can  comply  with  this 
request, 

^'  From  your  unworthy  servant, 

''  Elizabeth  W" e." 

I  was  much  struck  with  the  simple  and  earnest  strain 
of  devotion  which  this  letter  breathed.  It  was  but  indif- 
ferently written  and  spelt.  But  this  the  rather  tended  to 
endear  the  hitherto  unknown  writer,  as  it  seemed  charac- 
teristic of  the  union  of  humbleness  of  station  with 
eminence  of  piety.  I  felt  quite  thankful  that  I  was 
favoured  with  a  correspondent  of  this  description ;  the 
more  so,  as  such  characters  were  at  that  time  very  rare 
in  the  neighbourhood.  I  have  often  wished  that  episto 
lary  intercourse  of  this  kind  was  more  encouraged  and 
practised  among  us.  I  have  the  greatest  reason  to  speak 
well  of  its  effects  both  on  myself  and  others.     Communi- 


THE     dairyman's     DAUGHTER.  23 

cation  by  letter  as  well  as  by  conversation  with  the  pious 
poor,  has  often  been  the  instrument  of  animating  and 
reviving  my  own  heart  in  the  midst  of  duty,  and  of 
giving  me  the  most  profitable  information  for  the  general 
conduct  of  the  ministerial  office. 

As  soon  as  the  letter  was  read,  I  enquired  who  was 
the  bearer  of  it. 

''He  is  waiting  at  the  outside  of  the  gate,  Sir;"  was 
the  reply. 

I  went  out  to  speak  to  him,  and  saw  a  venerable  old 
man,  whose  long  hoary  hair  arid  deeply  wrinkled  coun- 
tenance commanded  more  than  common  respect.  He 
was  resting  his  arm  upon  the  gate,  and  tears  were 
streaming  down  his  cheeks.  On  my  approach  he  made 
a  low  bow  and  said, 

"  Sir,  I  have  brought  you  a  letter  from  my  daughter ; 
but  I  fear  you  will  think  us  very  bold  in  asking  you  to 
take  so  much  trouble." 

''By  no  means,"  I  replied;  "I  shall  be  truly  glad  to 
oblige  you  and  any  of  your  family  in  this  matter, 
provided  it  be  quite  agreeable  to  the  minister  of  your 
parish." 

"  Sir,  he  told  me  yesterday,  that  he  should  be  very 
glad  if  I  could  procure  some  gentleman  to  come  and 
bury  my  poor  child  for  him,  as  he  lives  five  miles  off, 
and  has  particular  business  on  that  day  :  so  when  I  told 
my  daughter,  she  asked  me  to  come  to  you.  Sir,  and 
bring  that  letter,  which  would  explain  the  matter. 

I  desired  him  to  come  into  the  house,  and  then  said, 

"  What  is  your  occupation  ?  " 

"  Sir,  I  have  lived  most  of  my  days  in  a  little  cottage 

at ,  six  miles  from  here.     I  have  rented  a  few  acres 

of  ground,  and  kept  some  cows,  which,  in  addition  to 
my  day  labour,  has  been  the  means  of  supporting  and 
bringing  up  my  family." 

''  What  family  have  you  ?  " 


24  THE   daieyman's   daughter. 

^'A  wife;  now  getting  very  aged  and  helpless,  two 
sons,  and  one  daughter ;  for  my  other  poor  dear  child  is 
just  departed  out  of  this  wicked  world." 

"  I  hope  for  a  better." 

'  I  hope  so  too :  poor  thing,  she  did  not  use  to  take  to 
such  good  ways  as  her  sister ;  but  I  do  believe  that  her 
sister's  manner  of  talking  with  her  before  she  died  was 
the  means  of  saving  her  soul.  What  a  mercy  it  is  to 
have  such  a  child  as  mine  is !  I  never  thought  about 
my  own  soul  seriously  till  she,  poor  girl,  begged  and 
prayed  me  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come." 

"  How  old  are  you  ?  " 

''  Near  seventy,  and  my  wife  is  older ;  we  are  getting 
told  and  almost  past  our  labour,  but  our  daughter  has 
left  a  good  place,  where  she  lived  in  service,  on  purpose 
to  come  home  and  take  care  of  us  and  our  little  dairy. 
And  a  dear,  dutiful,  affectionate  girl  she  is." 

"  Was  she  always  so  ?  " 

"  IsTo,  Sir ;  when  she  was  very  young,  she  was  all  for 
the  world,  and  pleasure,  and  dress,  and  company.  Indeed 
we  were  all  very  ignorant,  and  thought  if  we  took  care 
for  this  life,  and  wronged  nobody,  we  should  be  sure  to 
go  to  heaven  at  last.  My  daughters  were  both  wilful, 
and  like  ourselves,  strangers  to  the  ways  of  Grod  and  the 
word  of  his  grace.  But  the  eldest  of  them  went  out  to 
service,  and  some  years  ago  she  heard  a  sermon  preached 

at church,  by  a  gentleman  that  was  going  to , 

as  chaplain  to  the  colony,  and  from  that  time  she  seemed 
quite  another  creature.  She  began  to  read  the  Bible, 
and  became  sober  and  steady.  The  first  time  she  returned 
home  afterwards  to  see  us,  she  brought  us  a  guinea  which 
she  had  saved  from  her  wages,  and  said,  as  we  wero 
getting  old,  she  was  sure  we  should  want  help ;  adding, 
that  she  did  not  wish  to  spend  it  in  fine  clothes,  as  she 
used  to  do,  only  to  feed  pride  and  vanity.  She  said, 
she  would   rather   show   gratitude   to   her   dear  father 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  25 

and  motlier,  because  Christ  had  shown  such  mercy  to 
her. 

"  We  wondered  to  hear  her  talk,  and  took  great  delight 
in  her  company ;  for  her  temper  and  behaviour  were  so 
humble  and  kind,  she  seemed  so  desirous  to  do  us  good 
both  in  soul  and  body,  and  was  so  different  from  what 
we  had  ever  seen  her  before,  that,  careless  and  ignorant 
as  we  had  been,  we  began  to  think  there  must  be  some- 
thing real  in  religion,  or  it  never  could  alter  a  person  so 
much  in  a  little  time. 

"  Her  youngest  sister,  poor  soul !  used  to  laugh  and 
ridicule  her  at  that  time,  and  said  her  head  was  turned 
with  her  new  ways.  'No,  sister,'  she  would  say,  'not 
my  head,  but  I  hope  my  heart  is  turned  from  the  love  of 
Bin  to  the  love  of  God.  I  wish  you  may  one  day  see,  as 
I  do,  the  danger  and  vanity  of  your  present  condition.' 

"Her  poor  sister  would  reply,  'I  do  not  want  to  hear 
any  of  your  preaching  ;•  I*  am  no  worse  than  other  people, 
and  that  is  enough  for  me.'  — '  Well,  sister,'  Elizabeth 
would  say,  '  if  you  will  not  hear  me,  you  cannot  hinder 
me  from  praying  for  you,  which  I  do  with  all  my  heart.' 

"  And  now.  Sir,  I  believe  those  prayers  are  answered. 
For  when  her  sister  was  taken  ill,  Elizabeth  went  to 

Mrs. 's  to  wait  in  her  place,  and  take  care  of  her. 

She  said  a  great  deal  to  her  about  her  soul,  and  the  poor 
girl  began  to  be  so  deeply  affected,  and  sensible  of  her 
past  sin,  and  so  thanlcful  for  her  sister's  kind  behaviour, 
that  it  gave  her  great  hopes  indeed  for  her  sake.  When 
my  wife  and  I  wen,t  to  see  her  as  she  lay  sick,  she  told 
us  how  grieved  and  ashamed  she  was  of  her  past  life ; 
but  said,  she  had  a  hope  through  grace  that  her  dear 
sister's  Saviour  would  be  her  Saviour  too ;  for  she  saw 
her  own  sinfulness,  felt  her  own  helplessness,  and  only 
wished  to  cast  herself  upon  -Christ  as  her  hope  and 
salvation. 

''And  now.  Sir,  she  is  gone;  and  I  hope  and  thuih 


26  THE   dairyman's  daughter. 

Iter  sister's  prayers  for  her  conversion  to  God  "have  been 
answered.  The  Lord  grant  the  same  for  her  poor  father 
and  mother's  sake  likewise ! " 

This  conversation  was  a  very  pleasing  commentary 
upon  the  letter  which  I  had  received,  and  made  me 
anxious  both  to  comply  with  the  request,  and  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  writer.  I  promised  the  good  Dairy- 
man to  attend  on  the  Friday  at  the  appointed  hour;  and 
after  some  more  conversation  respecting  his  own  state 
of  mind  under  the  present  trial,  he  went  away. 

He  was  a  reverend  old  man;  his  furrowed  cheeks, 
white  locks,  weeping  eyes,  bent  shoulders,  and  feeble 
gait,  were  characteristic  of  the  aged  pilgrim.  As  he 
slowly  walked  onwards,  supported  by  a  stick,  which 
seemed  to  have  been  the  companion  of  many  a  long  year, 
a  train  of  reflections  occurred,  which  I  retrace  with  plea- 
sure and  emotion. 

At  the  appointed  hour  I  ari*ved  at  the  church ;  and 
after  a  little  while,  was  summoned  to  the  churchyard 
gate  to  meet  the  faneral  procession.  The  aged  parents, 
the  elder  brother,  and  the  sister,  with  other  relatives, 
formed  an  affecting  group.  I  was  struck  with  the  humble, 
pious,  and  pleasing  countenance  of  the  young  woman 
from  whom  I  had  received  the  letter.  It  bore  the  marks 
of  great  seriousness  without  affectation,  and  of  much 
serenity  mingled  with  a  glow  of  devotion. 

A  circumstance  occurred  during  the  reading  of  the 
Burial  Service,  which  I  think  it  right  to  mention,  as  one 
among  many  testimonies  of  the  solemn  and  impressive 
tendency  of  our  truly  evangelical  Liturgy. 

A  man  of  the  village,  who  had  hitherto  been  of  a  very 
careless  and  even  profligate  character,  went  into  the 
church  through  mere  curiosity,  and  with  no  better  pur- 
pose than  that  of  vacantly  gazing  at  the  ceremony.  He 
came  likewise  to  the  grave,  and  during  the  reading  of 
those  prayers  which  are  appointed  for  that  part  of  the 


THE   dairyman's   daugijtek.  27 

service,  Lis  mind  received  a  deep,  serious  conviction  of 
his  sin  and  spiritual  danger.  It  was  an  impression  that 
never  wore  off,  but  gradually  ripened  into  the  most 
satisfactory  evidence  of  an  entire  change,  of  which  I  had 
man  and  long-continued  proofs.  He  always  referred  to 
the  Burial  Service,  and  to  some  particular  sentences  of 
it,  as  the  clearly  ascertained  instrument  of  bringing  him 
through  grace,  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth. 

The  day  was  therefore  one  to  be  remembered.  Ee- 
membered  let  it  be  by  those  who  love  to  hear  "  the  short 
and  simple  annals  of  the  poor." 

Was  there  not  a  manifest  and  happy  connexion 
between  the  circumstances  that  providently  brought  the 
serious  and  the  careless  to  the  same  grave  on  that  day 
together  ?  How  much  do  they  lose  who  neglect  to  trace 
the  leadings  of  God  in  providence,  as  links  in  the  chain 
of  his  eternal  purpose  of  redemption  and  grace  I 

''  While  Infidels  may  scoff,  let  us  adore  1  " 

After  the  service  was  concluded,  I  had  a  short  conversa- 
tion with  the  good  old  couple  and  their  daughter.  She 
told  me  that  she  intended  to  remain  a  week  or  two  at  the 
gentleman's  house  where  her  sister  died,  till  another 
servant  should  arrive  and  take  her  sister's  place. 

"I  shall  be  truly  obliged,"  said  she  "by  an  oppor- 
tunity of  conversing  with  you,  either  there  or  at  my 
father's,  when  I  return  home,  which  will  be  in  tl^e  course 
of  a  fortnight  at  the  furthest.  I  shall  be  glad  to  talk  to 
you  about  my  sister,  whom  you  have  just  buried." 

Her  aspect  and  address  were  highly  interesting.  I 
promised  to  see  her  very  soon;  and  then  returned  home, 
quietly  reflecting  on  the  circumstances  of  the  funeral  at 
which  I  had  been  ena^aofed.  I  blessed  the  God  of  the 
poor,  and  prayed  that  the  poor  might  become  rich  in 
faith,  and  the  rich  be  made  poor  in  spirit. 


28  THE    dairyman's    DAUaHTER. 


PART    II. 

A  SWEET  solemnity  often  possesses  the  mind,  whilst 
retracing  past  intercourse  with  departed  friends.  How 
much  is  this  increased^  when  they  were  such  as  lived 
and  died  in  the  Lord!  The  remembrance  of  former 
scenes  and  conversations  with  those,  who,  we  believe,  are 
now  enjoying  the  uninterrupted  happiness  of  a  better 
world,  fills  the  heart  with  pleasing  sadness,  and  animates 
the  soul  with  the  hopeful  anticipation  of  a  day  when  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  shall  be  revealed  in  the  assembling  of 
all  his  children  together,  never  more  to  be  separated. 
Whether  they  were  rich  or  poor,  while  on  earth,  is  a 
matter  of  trifling  consequence  :  the  valuable  part  of  their 
character  is,  that  they  are  kings  and  priests  unto  God, 
and  this  is  their  true  nobility.  In  the  number  of  now 
departed  believers,  with  whom  I  once  loved  to  converse 
on  the  grace  and  glory  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  was  the 
Dairyman's  daughter. 

About  a  week  after  the  funeral,  I  went  to  visit  the 

family  at ,  in  whose  service  the  youngest  sister  had 

lived  and  died,  and  where   Elizabeth  was   requested  to 
remain  for  a  short  time  in  her  stead. 

The  house  was  a  large  and  venerable  mansion.  It 
stood  in  a  beautiful  valley  at  the  foot  of  a  high  hill.  It 
was  embowered  in  fine  woods,  which  were  interspersed  in 
every  direction  with  rising,  falling,  and  swelling  grounds. 
The  manor-house  had  evidently  descended  through  a 
long  line  of  ancestry,  from  a  distant  period  of  time. 
The  Gothic  character  of  its  original  architecture  was  still 
preserved  in  the  latticed  windows,  adorned  with  carved 
divisions  and  pillars  of  stonework.  Several  pointed 
terminations  also,  in  the  construction  of  the  roof,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  our  fore-fathers,  fully  corresponded 
with  the  general  features  of  the  building. 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  29 

One  end  of  the  house  was  entirely  clotlied  with  the 
thick  foliage  of  an  immense  ivy,  which  climbed  beyond 
customary  limits,  and  embraced  a  lofty  chimney  up  to 
its  very  summit.  Such  a  tree  seemed  congenial  to  the 
walls  that  supported  it,  and  conspired  with  the  antique 
fashion  of  the  place  to  carry  imagination  back  to  the 
days  of  our  ancestors. 

As  I  approached,  I  was  led  to  reflect  on  the  lapse  of 
ages,  and  the  successive  generations  of  men,  each  in 
their  turn  occupying  lands,  houses,  and  domains ;  each 
in  their  turn  also  disappearing,  and  leaving  their 
inheritance  to  be  enjoyed  by  others.  David  once  ob- 
served the  same,  and  cried  out,  "  Behold  thou  hast  made 
my  days  as  a  handbreadth,  and  mine  age  is  as  nothing 
before  thee :  verily  every  man  at  his  best  estate  is  alto- 
gether vanity.  Surely  every  man  walketh  in  a  vain 
show ;  surely  they  are  disquieted  in  vain :  he  heapeth 
up  riches,  and  cannot  tell  who  shall  gather  them." 

Happy  would  it  be  for  the  rich,  if  they  more  frequently 
meditated  on  the  uncertainty  of  all  their  possessions,  and 
the  frail  nature  of  every  earthly  tenure.  "  Their  inward 
thought  is,  that  their  houses  shall  continue  for  ever,  and 
their  dwelling-places  to  all  generations ;  they  call  their 
lands  after  their  own  names.  ISTevertheless,  man  being 
in  honour,  abideth  not :  he  is  like  the  beasts  that  perish. 
This  their  way  is  their  folly ;  yet  their  posterity  approve 
their  sayings.  Like  sheep,  they  are  laid  in  the  grave : 
death  shall  feed  on  them :  and  their  beauty  shall  con- 
sume in  the  grave,  from  their  dwelling." 

As  I  advanced  to  the  mansion,  a  pleasing  kind  of 
gloom  overspread  the  front:  it  was  occasioned  by  the 
shade  of  trees,  and  gave  a  characteristic  effect  to  the 
ancient  fabric.  I  instantly  recollected  that  death  had 
very  lately  visited  the  house,  and  that  one  of  its  present 
inhabitants  was  an  affectionate  mourner  for  a  departed 
sister.  3* 


80  THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTER. 

There  is  a  solemnity  in  tlie  thouglit  of  a  recent  death, 
which  will  associate  itself  with  the  very  walls  from 
whence  we  are  conscious  that  a  soul  has  just  taken  its 
flight  to  eternity. 

After  passing  some  time  in  conversation  with  the 
superiors  of  the  family,  in  the  course  of  which  I  was 
much  gratified  by  hearing  of  the  unremitted  attention 
which  the  elder  sister  had  paid  to  the  younger,  during 
the  illness  of  the  latter ;  I  received  likewise  other  testi- 
monies of  the  excellency  of  her  general  character  and 
conduct  in  the  house :  I  then  took  leave,  requesting  per- 
mission to  see  her,  agreeably  to  the  promise  I  had  made 
at  the  funeral,  not  many  days  before. 

I  was  shown  into  a  parlour,  Avhere  I  found  her  alone. 
She  was  in  deep  mourning.  She  had  a  calmness  and 
serenity  in  her  countenance,  which  exceedingly  struck 
me,  and  impressed  some  idea  of  those  attainments  which 
a  further  acquaintance  with  her  afterwards  so  much 
increased. 

She  spoke  of  her  sister.  I  had  the  satisfaction  of 
finding  that  she  had  given  very  hopeful  proofs  of  a 
change  of  heart,  before  she  died.  The  prayers  and 
earnest  exhortations  of  Elizabeth  had  been  blessed  to  a 
happy  effect.  She  described  what  had  passed  Avith  such 
a  mixture  of  sisterly  affection,  and  pious  dependence 
on  the  mercy  of  God  to  sinners,  as  convinced  me  that 
her  own  heart  was  under  the  influence  of  "pure  and 
undefiled  religion." 

She  requested  leave  occasionally  to  correspond  with 
me  on  serious  subjects,  stating  that  she  needed  much 
instruction.  She  hoped  I  would  pardon  the  liberty 
which  she  had  taken  by  introducing  herself  to  my 
notice.  She  expressed  a  trust  that  the  Lord  would 
overrule  both  the  death  of  her  sister,  and  the  personal 
acquaintance  with  me  that  resulted  from  it,  to  a  present 
and  future  good,   as  it  respected  herself  and  also  her 


THE    DAIKYMAN's    DAUGHTER.  31 

parents,  with  whom  sho  statedly  lived,  and  to  whom  she 
expected  to  return  in  a  few  days. 

Finding  that  she  was  wanted  in  some  household  duty, 
I  did  not  remain  long  with  her ;  but  left  her  with  an 
assurance  that  I  proposed  to  visit  her  parents  shortly. 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  "  I  take  it  very  kind  that  you  have 
condescended  to  leave  the  company  of  the  rich  and  con- 
verse with  the  poor.  I,wish  I  could  have  said  more  to 
you  respecting  my  own  state  of  mind.  Perhaps  I  shall 
be  better  able  another  time.  When  you  next  visit  me, 
instead  of  finding  me  in  these  noble  walls,  you  will  see 
me  in  a  poor  cottage.  But  I  am  happiest  when  there. 
Once  more.  Sir,  I  thank  you  for  your  past  kindness  to 
me  and  mine,  and  may  God  in  many  ways  bless  you 
for  it  I" 

I  quitted  the  house  with  no  small  degree  of  satisfac- 
tion, in  consequence  of  the  new  acquaintance  which  I 
had  formed.  I  discovered  traces  of  a  cultivated,  as  well 
as  a  spiritual  mind.  I  felt  that  religious  intercourse 
with  those  of  low  estate  may  be  rendered  eminently 
useful  to  others,  whose  outward  station  and  advantages 
are  far  above  their  own. 

How  often  does  it  appear,  that  "  God  hath  chosen  the 
weak  things  of  the  world  to  confound  the  things  which 
are  mighty ;  and  base  things  of  the  world,  and  things 
which  are  despised,  hath  God  chosen,  and  things  which 
are  not,  to'  bring  to  nought  things  that  are ;  that  no  flesh 
should  glory  in  his  presence." 

It  was  not  unfrequently  my  custom,  when  my  mind 
was  filled  with  any  interesting  subject  for  meditation,  to 
seek  some  spot  where  the  beauties  of  natural  prospect 
might  help  to  form  pleasing  and  useful  associations.  I 
therefore  ascended  gradually  to  the  very  summit  of  the 
hill  adjoining  the  mansion  where  my  visit  had  just  been 
made.  Here  was  placed  an  elevated  sea-mark :  it  was  in 
the  form  of  a  triangular  pyramid,  and  built  of  stone.     I 


82  THE    DAIKY  man's    DAUGHTEE. 

sat  down  on  tlie  ground  near  it,  and  looked  at  the  sur- 
rounding prospect,  wliicli  was  distinguished  for  beauty 
and  magnificence.  It  was  a  lofty  station,  which  com- 
manded a  complete  circle  of  interesting  objects  to  engage 
the  spectator's  attention. 

Southward  the  view  was  terminated  by  a  long  range 
of  hills,  at  about  six  miles  distance.  They  met,  to  the 
westward,  another  chain  of  hills,  of  which  the  one 
whereon  I  sat  formed  a  link,  and  the  whole  together 
nearly  encompassed  a  rich  and  beautiful  valley,  filled 
with  corn-fields  and  pastures.  Through  this  vale  winded 
a  small  river  for  many  miles :  much  cattle  were  feeding 
on  its  banks.  Here  and  there  lesser  eminences  arose  in 
the  valley ;  some  covered  with  wood,  others  with  corn 
or  grass,  and  a  few  with  heath  or  fern.  One  of  these 
little  hills  was  distinguished  by  a  parish  church  at  the 
top,  presenting  a  striking  feature  in  the  landscape. 
Another  of  these  elevations,  situated  in  the  centre  of  the 
valley,  was  adorned  with  a  venerable  holly-tree,  which 
has  grown  there  for  ages.  Its  singular  height  and  wide- 
spreading  dimensions  not  only  render  it  an  object  of 
curiosity  to  the  traveller,  but  of  daily  usefulness  to  the 
pilot,  as  a  mark  visible  from  the  sea,  whereby  to  direct 
his  vessel  safe  into  harbour.  Villages,  churches,  country- 
seats,  farm-houses,  and  cottages,  were  scattered  over 
every  part  of  the  southern  valley.  In  this  direction  also, 
at  the  foot  of  the  hill  where  I  was  stationed,  appeared 
the  ancient  mansion,  which  I  had  quitted,  embellished 
with  its  woods,  groves,  and  gardens. 

South-eastward,  I  saw  the  open  ocean,  bounded  only 
by  the  horizon.  The  sun  shone,  and  gilded  the  waves 
with  a  glittering  light  that  sparkled  in  the  most  brilliant 
manner.  More  to  the  east,  in  continuation  of  that  line 
of  hills  where  I  was  placed,  rose  two  downs,  one  beyond 
the  other ;  both  covered  with  sheep,  and  the  sea  just 
visible   over  the  farthest    of    them,    as   a   terminating 


THE    DAIEYMAN'S    DAUGHTER.  33 

boundary.  In.  this  point  ships  were  seen,  some  sailing, 
others  at  anchor.  Here  the  little  river,  which  watered 
the  southern  valley,  finished  its  course,  and  ran  through 
meadows  into  the  sea,  in  an  eastward  direction. 

On  the  north  the  sea  appeared  like  a  noble  river, 
varying  from  three  to  seven  miles  in  breadth,  between 
the  banks  of  the  opposite  coast  and  those  of  the  island 
which  I  inhabited.  Immediately  underneath  me  was  a 
fine  woody  district  of  country,  diversified  by  many 
pleasing  objects.  Distant  towns  were  visible  on  the 
opposite  shore.  Numbers  of  ships  occupied  the  sheltered 
station  which  this  northern  channel  afforded  them.  The 
eye  roamed  with  delight  over  an  expanse  of  near  and 
remote  beauties,  which  alternately  caught  the  observa- 
tion, and  which  harmonized  together,  and  produced  a 
scene  of  peculiar  interest. 

Westward  the  hills  followed  each  other,  forming 
several  intermediate  and  partial  valleys,  in  a  kind  of 
undulations,  like  the  waves  of  the  sea ;  and  bending  to 
the  south,  completed  the  boundary  of  the  larger  valley 
before  described,  to  the  southward  of  the  hill  on  which  I 
sat.  In  many  instances  the  hills  were  cultivated  with 
corn  to  their  very  summits,  and  seemed  to  defy  the 
inclemency  of  weather,  which,  at  these  heights,  usually 
renders  the  ground  incapable  of  bringing  forth  and 
ripening  the  crops  of  grain.  One  hill  alone,  the  highest 
in  elevation,  and  about  ten  miles  to  the  south-westward, 
was  enveloped  in  a  cloud,  which  just  permitted  a  dim 
and  hazy  sight  of  a  signal-post,  a  light-house,  and  an 
ancient  chantry,  built  on  its  summit. 

Amidst  these  numerous  specimens  of  delightful  scenery 
I  found  a  mount  for  contemplation,  and  here  I  indulged  it. 

"  How  much  of  the  natural  beauties  of  Paradise  stiD 
remain  in  the  world,  although  its  spiritual  character  has 
been  so  awfully  defaced  by  sin !  But  when  divine  grace 
renews  the  heart  of  the  fallen  sinner,  Paradise  is  regained. 


84  THE    DAIEY  man's    DAUGHTER. 

and  mucli  of  its  beauty  restored  to  tlie  soul.  As  this 
prospect  is  compounded  of  hill  and  dale,  land  and  sea, 
woods  and  plains,  all  sweetly  blended  together  and 
relieving  each  other  in  the  landscape :  so  do  the  gracious 
dispositions  wrought  in  the  soul,  produce  a  beauty  and 
harmony  of  scene  to  which  it  was  before  a  stranger. 

I  looked  towards  the  village  in  the  plain  below,  where 
the  Dairyman's  younger  daughter  was  buried.  I  retraced 
the  simple  solemnities  of  the  funeral.  I  connected  the 
principles  and  conduct  of  her  sister  with  the  present 
probably  happy  state  of  her  soul  in  the  world  of  spirits, 
and  was  greatly  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  importance 
of  family  influence  as  a  mean  of  grace.  "  That  young 
woman,"  I  thought,  "has  been  the  conductor  of  not  only 
'  a  sister,  but  perhaps  a  father  and  mother  also,  to  the  true 
knowledge  of  God,  and  may,  by  divine  blessing,  become 
so  to  others.  It  is  a  glorious  occupation  to  win  souls  to 
Christ,  and  guide  them  out  of  Egyptian  bondage  through 
the  wilderness  into  the  promised  Canaan.  Happy  are 
the  families  who  are  walking  hand  in  hand  together,  as 
pilgrims,  towards  the  heavenly  country.  May  the  num- 
ber of  such  be  daily  increased  I " 

Casting  my  eye  over  the  numerous  dwellings  in  the 
vales  on  my  right  and  left,  I  could  not  help  thinking, 
"how  many  of  their  inhabitants  are  ignorant  of  the  ways 
of  God,  and  strangers  to  his  grace !  May  this  thought 
stimulate  to  activity  and  diligence  in  the  cause  of  immor- 
tal souls!  They  are  precious  in  God's  sight— they 
ought  to  be  so  in  ours." 

Some  pointed  and  affecting  observations  to  that  effect 
recurred  to  my  mind  as  having  been  made  by  the  young 
person  with  whom  I  had  been  just  conversing.  Her 
mind  appeared  to  be  much  impressed  with  the  duty  of 
speaking  and  acting  for  God  "while  it  is  day;"  con- 
scious that  "  the  night  cometh,  when  no  man  can  work." 
Her  laudable  anxiety  on  this  head  was  often  testified  to 


THE     DAIKYMAN'S    D  A  U  G  H  T  E  E.  85 

me  afterwards,  both,  by  letter  and  conversation.  What 
she  felt  herself  in  respect  to  endeavours  to  do  good,  she 
happily  communicated  to  others  with  whom  she  corres- 
ponded or  conversed. 

Time  would  not  permit  my  continuing  so  long  in  the 
enjoyment  of  these  meditations  on  this  lovely  mount  of 
observation,  as  my  heart  desired.  On  my  return  home 
1  wrote  a  few  lines  to  the  Dairyman's  daughter,  chiefly 
dictated  by  the  train  of  thought  which  had  occupied  my 
mind  while  I  sat  on  the  hill. 

On  the  next  Sund^  evening  I  received  her  reply,  of 
which  the  following  is  a  transcript. 

"Sunday. 

"Key.  Sir, 

''  I  am  this  day  deprived  of  an  opportunity 
of  attending  the  house  of  God,  to  worship  him.  But, 
glory  be  to  his  name !  he  is  not  confined  to  time  nor 
place.  I  feel  him  present  with  me  where  I  am,  and  his 
presence  makes  my  Paradise,  for  where  he  is,  is  heaven. 
I  pray  God  that  a  double  portion  of  his  grace  and  Holy 
Spirit  may  rest  upon  you  this  day;  that  his  blessing 
may  attend  all  your  faithful  labours ;  and  that  you  may 
find  the  truth  of  his  Word,  assuring  us,  that  wherever 
we  assemble  together  in  his  name,  there  he  is  in  the 
midst  to  bless  every  waiting  soul. 

"  How  precious  are  all  his  promises  I  We  ought  never 
to  doubt  the  truth  of  his  word.  For  he  will  never 
deceive  us  if  we  go  on  in  faith,  always  expecting  to 
receive  what  his  goodness  waits  to  give.  Dear  Sir,  I 
have  felt  it  very  consoling  to  read  your  kind  letter  to- 
day. I  feel  thankful  to  God  for  ministers  in  our  church 
who  love  and  fear  his  name :  there  it  is  where  the  people 
in  general  look  for  salvation ;  and  there  may  they  ever 
find  it,  for  Jesu's  sake !  May  his  Word,  spoken  by  you 
his  chosen  vessel  of  grace,  be  made  spirit  and  life  to  their 


6b  THE    DAIRYMAN'S     DAUGHTER. 

dead  souls !  May  it  come  from  you  as  an  instrument  in 
the  hands  of  God,  as  sharp  arrows  from  a  strong  archer, 
and  strike  a  death-blow  to  all  their  sins !  How  I  lonsc 
to  see  the  arrows  of  conviction  fasten  on  the  minds  of 
those  that  are  hearers  of  the  Word  and  not  doers !  O 
Sir !  be  ambitious  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation 
of  souls.  It  will  add  to  the  lustre  of  your  crown  in 
glory,  as  well  as  to  your  present  joy  and  peace.  We 
should  be  willing  to  spend  and  be  spent  in  his  service, 
saying,  '  Lord,  may  thy  will  be  done  by  me  in  earth, 
even  as  it  is ,  by  thy  angels  in  Ireaven.'  So  you  may 
expect  to  see  his  face  with  joy,  and  say,  'Here  am  I, 
Lord,  and  all  the  souls  thou  hast  given  me.' 

''It  seems  wonderful  that  we  should  neglect  any 
opportunity  of  doing  good,  when  there  is,  if  it  be  done 
from  love  to  God  and  his  creatures,  a  present  reward  of 
grace,  in  reflecting  that  we  are  using  the  talents  com- 
mitted to  our  care  according  to  the  power  and  ability 
which  we  receive  from  him.  God  requires  not  what  he 
has  not  promised  to  give.  But  when  we  look  back,  and 
reflect  that  there  have  been  opportunities  in  which  we 
have  neglected  to  take  up  our  cross  and  speak  and  act 
for  God;  what  a  dejection  of  mind  we  feel!  We  are 
then  justly  filled  with  shame.  Conscious  of  being 
ashamed  of  Christ,  we  cannot  come  with  that  holy  bold- 
ness to  a  throne  of  grace,  nor  feel  that  free  access  when 
we  make  our  supplications. 

"We  are  commanded  to  provoke  one  another  to  love 
and  good  works  ;  and  where  two  are  agreed  together  in 
the  things  of  God,  tl;iey  may  say, 

'  And  if  our  fellowship  below, 

In  Jesus  be  so  sweet, 
What  heights  of  rapture  shall  we  know, 

When  round  the  throne  we  meet! ' 

"  Sir,  I  hope  Mrs. and  you  are  both  of  one  heart 

and  one  mind.   Then  you  will  sweetly  agree  in  all  things 


THE     DAIEY  man's    DAUGHTEK.  37 

that  make  for  your  present  and  eternal  happiness.  Christ 
sent  his  disciples  out,  not  singly,  but  two  and  two ;  that 
they  might  comfort  and  help  each  other  in  those  ways 
and  works  which  their  Lord  commanded  them  to  pursue. 

''  It  has  been  my  lot  to  have  been  alone  the  greatest 
part  of  the  time  that  I  have  known  the  ways  of  God.  I 
therefore  find  it  such  a  treat  to  my  soul  when  I  can  meet 
with  any  who  love  to  talk  of  the  goodness  and  love  of 
God,  and  all  his  gracious  dealings.  What  a  comfortable 
reflection,  to  think  of  spending  a  whole  eternity  in  that 
delightful  employment!  to  tell  to  listening  angels  his 
love,  '  immense,  unsearchable ! ' 

^'  Dear  Sir,  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness  and  conde- 
scension in  leaving  those  that  are  of  high  rank  and  birth 
in  the  world,  to  converse  with  me  who  am  but  a  servant 
here  below.  But  when  I  consider  what  a  high  calling, 
what  honour  and  dignity  God  has  conferred  upon  me,  to 
be  called  his  child,  to  be  born  of  his  Spirit,  made  an  heir 
of  glory,  and  joint  heir  with  Christ;  how  humble  and 
circumspect  should  I  be  in  all  my  ways,  as  a  dutiful  and 
loving  child  to  an  affectionate  and  loving  Father !  When 
I  seriously  consider  these  things,  it  fills  me  with  love 
and  gratitude  to  God,  and  I  do  not  wish  for  any  higher 
station,  nor  envy  the  rich.  I  rather  pity  them  if  they 
are  not  good  as  well  as  great.  My  blessed  Lord  was 
pleased  to  appeJtr  in  the  form  of  a  servant ;  and  I  long 
to  be  like  him. 

"  I  did  not  feel  in  so  happy  a  frame  for  conversation 
that  day,  nor  yet  that  liberty  to  explain  my  thoughts, 
which  I  sometimes  do.  The  fault  must  have  been  all  in 
myself;  for  there  was  nothing  in  you  but  what  seemed 
to  evidence  a  Christian  spirit,  temper,  and  disposition.  I 
very  much  wished  for  an  opportunity  to  converse  with 
you.  I  feel  very  thankful  to  God  that  you  do  take  up 
the  cross,  and  despise  the  shame :  if  you  are  found  faith- 
ful, you  will  soon  sit  down  with  him  in  glory 


38 

"  I  have  written  to  the  Eev.  Mr. ,  to  thank  him 

for  permitting  you  to  perform  the  Burial  Service  at , 

over  my  dear  departed  sister,  and  to  tell  him  of  the  kind 
way  in  which  you  consented  to  do  it.  I  should  mention 
that  your  manner  of  reading  the  service  on  that  day  had 
a  considerable  effect  on  the  hearers. 

"Pray  excuse  all  faults,  and  correct  my  errors.  I 
expect  in  a  few  days  to  return  home  to  my  parents' 
house.     We  shall  rejoice  to  see  you  there. 

"  From  your  humble  servant  in  Christ, 

u  E W ." 

It  was  impossible  to  view  such  a  correspondent  with 
indifference.  I  had  just  returned  from  a  little  cottage 
assembly,  where,  on  Sunday  evenings,  I  sometimes  went 
to  instruct  a  few  poor  families  in  one  of  the  hamlets 
belonging  to  my  parish.  I  read  the  letter,  and  closed 
the  day  with  thanksgiving  to  God  for  thus  enabling 
those  who  fear  his  name  to  build  up  each  other  in  faith 
and  love. 

Of  old  time,  "  they  that  feared  the  Lord  spake  often 
one  to  another ;  and  the  Lord  hearkened  and  heard  it, 
'and  a  book  of  remembrance  was  written  before  him,  for 
them  that  feared  the  Lord  and  that  thought  upon  his 
name." 

That  book  of  remembrance  is  not  yet  closed. 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  89 


PAET    III. 

The  mind  of  man  is  like  a  moving  picture,  supplied 
with  objects,  not  only  from  contemplation  on  things 
present,  but  from  the  fruitful  sources  of  recollection  and 
anticipation. 

Memory  retraces  past  events,  and  restores  an  ideal 
reality  to  scenes  which  are  gone  by  for  ever.  They  live 
again  in  revived  imagery,  and  we  seem  to  hear  and  see 
with  renewed  emotions  what  we  heard  and  saw  at  a 
former  period.  Successions  of  such  recollected  circum- 
stances often  form  a  series  of  welcome  memorials.  In 
religious  meditation  the  memory  becomes  a  sanctified 
instrument  of  spiritual  improvement. 

Another  part  of  this  animated  picture  is  furnished  by 
the  pencil  of  Hope.  She  draws  encouraging  prospects 
for  the  soul  by  connecting  the  past  and  present  with  the 
future.  Seeing  the  promises  afar  off,  she  is  persuaded 
of  their  truth,  and  embraces  them  as  her  own. 

The  Spirit  of  God  gives  a  blessing  to  both  these  acts 
of  the  mind,  and  employs  them  in  the  service  of  religion. 
Every  faculty  of  body  and  soul,  when  considered  as  a 
part  of  "the  purchased  possession"  of  the  Saviour, 
assumes  a  new  character.  How  powerfully  does  the 
Apostle,  on  this  ground,  urge  a  plea  for  holy  activity 
and  watchfulness :  "  What !  know  ye  not  that  your  body 
is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  which  is  in  you,  which 
ye  have  of  God ;  and  ye  are  not  your  own  ?  For  ye  are 
bought  with  a  price :  therefore  glorify  God  in  your  body 
and  in  your  spirit,  which  are  God's." 

The  Christian  may  derive  much  profit  and  enjoyment 
from  the  use  of  the  memory  as  it  concerns  those  transac- 
tions in  which  he  once  bore  a  part.  In  his  endeavours 
to  recall  past  conversations  and  intercourse  with  deceased 


40  THE   daikyman's   daughtee. 

friends  in  particular,  the  powers  of  remembrance  greatly 
improve  by  exercise.  One  revived  idea  produces  another 
till  the  mind  is  most  agreeably  and  usefully  occupied 
with  lively  and  holy  imaginations. 

"  Lull'd  in  the  countless  chambers  of  the  brain, 
Our  thoughts  are  link'd  by  many  a  hidden  chain  j 
Awake  but  one,  and  lo,  what  myriads  rise  I 
Each  stamps  its  image  as  the  other  flies ; 
Each,  as  the  varied  avenues  of  sense 
Delight  or  sorrow  to  the  soul  dispense, 
Brightens  or  fades  :  yet  all,  with  sacred  art, 
Control  the  latent  fibres  of  the  heart." 

May  it  please  God  to  bldss,  both  to  the  reader  and  the 
writer,  this  feeble  attempt  to  recollect  some  of  the  com- 
munications which  I  once  enjoyed  in  my  visits  to  the 
Dairyman's  dwelling ! 

Yery  soon  after  the  receipt  of  the  last  letter,  I  rode  for 
the  first  time  to  see  the  family  at  their  own  home.  The 
principal  part  of  the  road  lay  through  retired,  narrow 
lanes,  beautifully  over-arched  with  groves  of  nut  and 
other  trees,  which  screened  the  traveller  from  the  rays 
of  the  sun,  and  afforded  many  interesting  objects  for 
admiration  in  the  flowers,  shrubs  and  young  trees,  which 
grew  upon  the  high  banks  on  each  side  of  the  road. 
Many  grotesque  rocks,  with  little  trickling  streams  of 
water  occasionally  breaking  out  of  them,  varied  the 
recluse  scenery,  and  produced  a  romantic  and  pleasing 
effect. 

Here  and  there  the  more  distant  prospect  beyond  was 
observable  through  gaps  and  hollow  places  on  the  road- 
side. Lofty  hills,  with  navy  signal-posts,  obelisks,  and 
light-houses  on  their  summits,  appeared  at  these  inter- 
vals :  rich  corn-fields  were  also  visible  through  some  of 
the  open  places;  and  now  and  then,  when  the  road 
ascended  a  hill,  the  sea,  with  ships  at  various  distances, 
was  seen.    But  for  the  most  part  shady  seclusion,  and 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  41 

objects  of  a  more  minute  and  confined  nature,  gave  a 
character  to  tlie  journey,  and  invited  contemplation. 

How  much  do  they  lose  who  are  strangers  to  seriT)us 
meditation  on  the  wonders  and  beauties  of  nature !  How 
gloriously  the  God  of  creation  shines  in  his  works !  Kot 
a  tree,  or  leaf,  or  flower ;  not  a  bird  or  insect,  but  it  pro- 
claims in  glowing  language,  "  God  made  me." 

As  I  approached  the  village  where  the  good  old 
Dairyman  dwelt,  I  observed  him  in  a  little  field,  driving 
his  cows  before  him  towards  a  yard  and  hovel  which 
adjoined  his  cottage.  I  advanced  very  near  him  without 
his  observing  me,  for  his  sight  was  dim.  On  my  calling 
out  to  him,  he  started  at  the  sound  of  my  voice,  but  with 
much  gladness  of  heart  welcomed  me,  saying — ^' Bless 
your  heart.  Sir,  I  am  very  glad  you  are  come :  we  have 
looked  for  you  every  day  this  week." 

The  cottage-door  opened,  and  the  daughter  came  out, 
followed  by  her  aged  and  infirm  mother.  The  sight  of 
me  naturally  brought  to  recollection  the  grave  at  which 
we  had  before  met.  Tears  of  affection  mingled  with  the 
smile  of  satisfaction  with  which  I  was  received  by  these 
worthy  cottagers.  I  dismounted,  and  waa;  conducted 
through  a  neat  little  garden,  part  of  which  was  shaded 
by  two  large  overspreading  elm-trees,  to  the  house. 
Decency  and  order  were  manifest  within  and  without. 
No  excuse  was  made  here,  on  the  score  of  poverty,  for 
confusion  and  uncleanliness  in  the  disposal  of  their  little 
household.  Every  thing  wore  the  aspect  of  neatness  and 
propriety.  On  each  side  of  the  fire-place  stood  an  old 
oaken  arm-chair,  where  the  venerable  parents  rested 
their  weary  limbs  after  the  day's  labour  was  over.  On  a 
shelf  in  one  corner  lay  two  Bibles,  with  a  few  religious 
books  and  tracts.  The  little  room  had  two  windows;  a 
lovely  prospect  of  hills,  woods,  and  fields,  appeared 
through  one ;  the  other  was  more  than  half  obscured  by 
the  branches  of  a  vine  which  was  trained  across  it; 


42  THE   dairyman's   daughter. 

between  its  leaves  the  sun  shone;  and  cast  a  cheerful 
light  over  the  whole  place. 

^'This/'  thought  I,  '^is  a  fit  residence  for  piety,  peace, 
and  contentment.  May  I  learn  a  fresh  lesson  for 
advancement  in  each  through  the  blessing  of  God  on  this 
visit!" 

"Sir,"  said  the  daughter,  ''we  are  not  worthy  that 
you  should  come  under  our  roof.  "We  take  it  very  kind 
that  you  should  travel  so  far  to  see  us." 

''My  Master,"  I  replied,  "came  a  great  deal  further  to 
visit  us  poor  sinners.  He  left  the  bosom  of  his  Father, 
laid  aside  his  glory,  and  came  down  to  this  lower  world 
on  a  visit  of  mercy  and  love ;  and  ought  not  we,  if  we 
profess  to  follow  him,  to  bear  each  other's  infirmities, 
and  go  about  doing  good  as  he  did?" 

The  old  man  now  entered,  and  joined  his  wife  and 
daughter  in  giving  me  a  cordial  welcome.  Our  conver- 
sation soon  turned  to  the  loss  they  had  so  lately  sustained. 
The  pious  and  sensible  disposition  of  the  daughter  was 
peculiarly  manifested,  as  well  in  what  she  said  to  her 
parents,  as  in  what  she  more  immediately"  addressed  to 
myself.  I  had  now  a  further  opportunity  of  remarking 
the  good  sense  and  agreeable  manner  which  accompanied 
her  expressions  of  devotedness  to  God,  and  love  to  Christ 
for  the  great  mercies  which  he  had  bestowed  upon  her. 
During  her  residence -in  different  gentlemen's  families 
where  she  had  been  in  service,  she  had  acquired  a 
superior  behaviour  and  address ;  but  sincere  piety  ren- 
dered her  very  humble  and  unassuming  in  manner  and 
conversation.  She  seemed  anxious  to  improve  the  oppor- 
tunity  of  my  visit  to  the  best  purpose  for  her  own  and 
her  parents'  sake;  yet  there  was  nothing  of  unbecoming 
forwardness,  no  self-consequence  or  conceitedness  in  her 
conduct.  She  united  the  firmness  and  solicitude  of  the 
Christian  Avith  the  modesty  of  the  female  and  the  dutiful- 
•less  of  the  daughter.    It  was  impossible  to  be  in  her 


THE    DAIEY  man's    DAUGHTEE.  43 

company  and  not  observe  how  truly  her  temper  and 
conversation  adorned  the  principles  which  she  professed. 

I  soon  discovered  how  eager  and  how  successful  also 
she  had  been  in  her  endeavours  to  bring  her  father  and 
mother  to  the  knowledge  and  experience  of  the  truth. 
This  is  a  lovely  feature  in  the  character  of  a  young 
Christian.  If  it  have  pleased  God  in  the  free  dispensa- 
tions of  his  mercy  to  call  the  child  by  his  grace,  while 
the -parent  remains  still  in  ignorance  and  sin,  how  great 
is  the  duty  incumbent  on  that  child  to  do  what  is  possible 
to  promote  the  conversion  of  those  to  whom  so  much  is 
owing!  Happy  is  it  when  the  ties  of  grace  sanctify 
those  of  nature  I 

The  aged  conple  evidently  regarded  and  spoke  of  this 
daughter  as  their  teacher  and  admonisher  in  divine 
things,  while  at  the  same  time  they  received  from  her 
every  token  of  filial  submission  and  obedience,  testified 
by  continual  endeavours  to  serve  and  assist  them  to  the 
utmost  of  her  power  in  the  daily  concerns  of  the  house- 
hold. 

The  religion  of  this  young  woman  was  of  a  highly 
spiritual  character,  and  of  no  ordinary  attainment.  Her 
views  of  the  divine  plan  in  saving  the  sinner,  were  clear 
and  scriptural.  She  spoke  much  of  the  joys  and  sorrows 
which,  in  the  course  of  her  religious  progress,  she  had 
experienced :  but  she  was  fully  sensible  that  there  is  far 
more  in  real  religion  than  mere  occasional  transition 
from  one  frame  of  mind  and  spirits  to  another.  She 
believed  that  the  experimental  acquaintance  of  the  heart 
with  God  principally  consisted  in  so  living  upon  Christ 
by  faith,  as  to  aim  at  living  like  him  by  love.  She  knew 
that  the  love  of  God  toward  the  sinner,  and  the  path  of 
duty  prescribed  to  the  sinner,  are  both  of  an  unchange- 
able nature.  In  a  believing  dependence  on  the  one,  and 
an  affectionate  walk  in  the  other,  she  sought  and  found 


44  THE  dairyman's  daughter. 

"the  peace  of  Grod  wliicli  passeth  all  -understanding;" 
"for  so  lie  giveth  his  beloved  rest." 

She  had  read  but  few  books  besides  her  Bible ;  but 
these  few  were  excellent  in  their  kind,  and  she  spoke  of 
their  contents  as  one  who  knew  their  value.  In  addition 
to  a  Bible  and  Prayer-book,  "Doddridge's  Eise  and 
Progress,"  "Eomaine's  Life,  Walk,  and  Triumph  of 
F^th,"  "Bunyan's  Pilgrim,"  "Alleine's  Alarm,"  "Bax- 
ter's Saint's  Everlasting  Best,"  a  hymn-book,  and  a  few 
tracts,  composed  her  library. 

I  observed  in  her  countenance  a  pale  and  delicate  hue, 
which  I  afterwards  found  to  be  a  presage  of  consump- 
tion ;  and  the  idea  then  occurred  to  me  that  she  would 
not  live  very  long. 

Time  passed  on  swiftly  with  this  interesting  family ; 
and  after  having  partaken  of  some  plain  and  wholesome 
refreshment,  and  enjoyed  a  few  hours'  conversation  with 
them,  I  found  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  return  home- 
wards. The  disposition  and  character  of  the  parties  may 
be  in  some  sort  ascertained  by  the  expressions  used  at 
parting. 

"God  send  you  safe  home  again,"  said  the  aged 
mother,  "  and  bless  the  day  that  brought  you  to  see  two 
poor  old  creatures,  such  as  we  are,  in  our  trouble  and 
affliction.  Come  again,  Sir,  come  again,  when  you  can ; 
and  though  I  am  a  poor  ignorant  soul,  and  not  fit  to  talk 
to  such  a  gentleman  as  you,  yet  my  dear  child  shall 
speak  for  me;  she  is  the  greatest  comfort  I  have  left, 
and  I  hope  the  good  Lord  will  spare  her  to  support  my 
trembling  limbs  and  feeble  spirits,  till  I  lie  down  with 
my  other  dear  departed  children  in  the  grave." 

"  Trust  to  the  Lord,"  I  answered,  "  and  remember  his 
gracious  promise ;  '  Even  to  your  old  age  I  am  he ;  and 
even  to  hoary  hairs  I  will  carry  you.' " 

"I  thank  you.  Sir,"  said  the  daughter,  ^for  your 
Christian  kindness  to  me  and  my  friends.     I  believe  the 


THE    daieyman's   daughtek.  45 

blessing  of  the  Lord  has  attended  your  visit,  and  I  hope 
that  I  have  experienced  it  *o  be  so.  My  dear  father  and 
mother  will,  I  am  sure,  remember  it ;  and  I  rejoice  in  the 
opportunity  of  seeing  so  kind  a  friend  under  this  roof. 
My  Saviour  has  been  abundantly  good  to  me  in  plucking 
me  '  as  a  brand  from  the  burning/  and  showing  me  the 
way  of  life  and  peace :  and  I  hope  it  is  my  heart's  desire 
to  live  to  his  glory.  But  I  long  to  see  these  dear  friends 
enjoy  the  power  and  comfort  of  religion  likewise." 

"I  think  it  evident;"  I  replied,  "that  the  promise  is 
fulfilled  in  their  case;  'It  shall  come  to  pass,  that  at 
evening  time  it  shall  be  light.' " 

"I  believe  it,"  she  said,  "and  praise  God  for  the 
blessed  hope." 

"Thank  him  too,  that  you  have  been  the  happy 
instrument  of  bringing  them  to  the -light." 

"I  do,  Sir ;  yet,  when  I  think  of  my  own  un worthi- 
ness and  insufficiency,  I  rejoice  with  trembling." 

"Sir,"  said  the  good  old  man,  ''I  am  sure  the  Lord 
will  reward  you  for  this  kindness.  Pray  for  us,  old  as 
we  are,  sinners  as  we  have  been,  that  yet  he  would  have 
mercy  upon  us  at  the  eleventh  hour.  Poor  Betsy  strives 
much  for  our  sakes,  both  in  body  and  soul ;  she  works 
hard  all  day  to  save  us  trouble,  and  I  fear  has  not  strength 
to  support  all  she  does ;  and  then  she  talks  to  us,  and 
reads  to  us,  and  prays  for  us,  that  we  may  be  saved  from 
the  wrath  to  come.    Indeed,  Sir,  she's  a  rare  child  to  us." 

"  Peace  be  to  you  and  to  all  that  belong  to  you  !" 

"Amen,  and  thank  you,  dear  Sir,"  was  echoed  from 
each  tongue. 

Thus  we  parted  for  that  time.  My  returning  medita- 
tions were  sweet,  and,  I  hope,  profitable. 

Many  other  visits  were  afterwards  made  by  me  to  this 
peaceful  cottage,  and  I  always  found  increasing  reason 
to  thank  God  for  the  intercourse  I  there  enjoyed. 

An  interval  of  some  length  o'ccurred  once  during  that 


46  THE   dairyman's  daughter. 

year,  in  whicli  I  had  not  seen  the  Dairyman's  family.  I 
was  reminded  of  the  circumstance  by  the  receipt  of  the 
following  letter. 

^'Eev.  Sir, 

''  I  have  been  expecting  to  see  or  hear  from 
you  for  a  considerable  time.  Excuse  the  liberty  I  take 
in  sending  you  another  letter.     I  have  been  confined  to 

the  house  the  greater  part  of  the  time  since  I  left . 

I  took  cold  that  day,  and  have  been  worse  ever  since.  I 
walk  out  a  little  on  these  fine  days,  but  seem  to  myself 
to  walk  very  near  on  the  borders  of  eternity.  Griory  be 
to  God,  it  is  a  very  pleasing  prospect  before  me.  Though. 
I  feel  the  workings  of  sin,  and  am  abased,  yet  Jesus 
shows  his  mercy  to  be  mine,  and  I  trust  that  I  am  his. 
At  such  times, 

'  My  soul  would  leave  this  heavy  clay 

At  his  transporting  word, 
Run  up  with  joy  the  shining  way 
To  meet  and  prove  the  Lord. 

Fearless  of  hell  and  ghastly  death, 

I'd  break  through  every  foe  ; 
The  wings  of  love  and  arms  of  faith 

Would  bear  me  conqu'ror  through.' 

My  desire  is  to  live  every  moment  to  God,  that  I  may, 
through  his  grace,  be  kept  in  that  heavenly,  happy  frame 
of  mind,  that  I  shall  wish  for  at  the  hour  of  death.  We 
cannot  live  nor  die  happy  without  this ;  and  to  keep  it, 
we  must  be  continually  watching  and  praying.  For  we 
have  many  enemies  to  disturb  our  peace.  I  am  so  very 
weak,  that  now  I  can  go  no  where  to  any  outward  means 
for  that  help  which  is  so  refreshing  to  my  spirit. 

"  I  should  have  been  very  happy  to  have  heard  you  last 

Sunday,  when  you  preached  at :  I  could  not  walk 

so  far.     I  hope  the  word  spoken  by  you  was  made  a 


THE    DAIKY  man's    DAUGHTEK.  47 

blessing  to  many  that  ,  heard  it.  It  was  my  earnest 
prayer  to  God  that  it  might  be  so.  But,  alas!  once 
calling  does  not  awaken  many  that  are  in  a  sound  sleep. 
Yet  the  voice  of  God  is  sometimes  very  powerful,  when 
his  ministers  speak;  when  they  are  influenced  by  his 
Holy  Spirit,  and  are  simple  and  sincere  in  holding  forth 
the  Word  of  Life.  Then  it  will  teach  us  all  things,  and 
enlighten  our  mind,  and  reveal  unto  us  the  hidden  things 
of  darkness,  and  give  us  out  of  that  divine  treasure 
'things  new  and  old.'  Eesting  on  God  to  work  in  us 
both  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  own  good  pleasure,  we 
ought  always  to  work  as  diligent  servants,  that  know 
they  have  a  good  Master,  that  will  surely  not  forget 
their  labour  of  love. 

"  If  we  could  but  fix  our  eyes  always  on  that  crown 
of  glory  that  awaits  us  in  the  skies,  we  should  never 
grow  weary  in  well-doing ;  but  should  run  with  patience 
and  delight  in  the  work  and  ways  of  God,  where  he 
appoints  us.  We  should  not  then,  as  we  too  frequently 
do,  suffer  these  trifling  objects  here  on  earth  to  draw 
away  our  minds  from  God,  to  rob  him  of  his  glory,  and 
our  souls  of  that  happiness  and  comfort  which  the 
believer  may  enjoy  amidst  outward  afilictions.  If  we 
thus  lived  more  by  faith  in  the  Son  of  God,  we  should 
endeavour  to  stir  up  all  whom  we  could,  to  seek  after 
God.  We  should  tell  them  what  he  has  done  for  us,  and 
what  he  would  do  for  them,  if  they  truly  sought  him. 
We  should  show  them  what  a  glorious  expectation  there 
is  for  all  true  believers  and  sincere  seekers. 

"  When  our  minds  are  so  fixed  on  God,  we  are  more 
desirous  of  glorifying  him,  in  making  known  his  good- 
ness to  us,  than  the  proud  rich  man  is  of  getting  honour 
to  himself.  I  mourn  over  my  own  backwardness  to  this 
exercise  of  duty,  when  I  think  of  God's  willingness  to 
save  the  vilest  of  the  vile,  according  to  the  dispensations 
of  his  eternal  grace  and  mercy.*     O !  how  amiable,  how 


48  THE    DAIKYMAN'S     DAUGHTER.- 

lovely  does  this  make  that  God  of  love  appear  to  poor 
sinners,  that  can  view  him  as  such.  How  is  the  sonl 
delighted  with  such  a  contemplation !  They  that  have 
much  forgiven,  how  much  they  love ! 

"  These  thoughts  have  been  much  on  my  mind  since 

the  death  of .     I  trust  the  Lord  will  pardon  me  for 

my  neglect.  I  thought  it  was  my  duty  to  speak  or  write 
to  him :  you  remember  what  I  said  to  you  respecting  it. 
But  I  still  delayed  till  a  more  convenient  season.  0 1 
how  I  was  struck  when  I  heard  the  Lord  had  taken  him 
so  suddenly.  I  was  filled  with  sorrow  and  shame  for 
having  neglected  what  I  had  so  often  resolved  to  do. 
But  now  the  time  of  speaking  for  God  to  him  was  over. 
Hence  we  see  that  the  Lord's  time  is  the  best  time.  Now 
the  night  of  death  was  come  upon  him ;  no  more  work 
was  to  be  done.  If  I  had  done  all  that  lay  in  my  power 
to  proclaim  reconciliation  by  Christ  to  his  soul,  whether 
he  had  heard  or  no,  I  should  have  been  clear  of  his  blood. 
But  I  cannot  recall  the  time  that  is  past,  nor  him  from 
the  grave.  Had  I  known  the  Lord  would  have  called 
him  so  suddenly,  how  diligent  I  should  have  been  to 
warn  him  of  his  danger  I  But  it  is  enough  that  God 
shows  us  what  we  are  to  do,  and  not  what  he  is  about  to 
do  with  u^  or  any  of  his  creatures.  Pray,  Sir,  do  all  you 
can  for  the  glory  of  God.  The  time  will  soon  pass  by, 
and  then  we  shall  enter  that  glorious  rest  that  he  hath 
prepared  for  them  that  love  him.  I  pray  God  to  fill  you 
with  that  zeal  and  love,  which  he  only  can  inspire,  that 
you  may  daily  win  souls  to  Christ.  May  he  deliver  you 
from  all  slavish  fear  of  man,  and  give  you  boldness,  as 
he  did  of  old  those  that  were  filled  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
and  with  power ! 

''  Eemember,  Christ  hath  promised  to  be  with  all  his 
faithful  ministers  to  the  end  of  time.  The  greater  dangers 
and  difficulties  they  are  exposed  to,  the  more  powerful 
his  assistance.     Then,  Sir,  let  us  fear  none  but  him.     I 


THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  49 

hope  you  will  pray  mucli  for  me  a  poor  sinner,  that  God 
will  perfect  his  strength  in  my  weakness  of  body  and 
mind.  For  without  him  I  can  do  nothing.  But  when  I 
can  experience  the  teaching  of  that  Holy  One,  I  need  no 
other  teacher.  May  the  Lord  anoint  you  with  the  same, 
and  give  you  every  grace  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  that  you 
may  be  filled  with  all  the  fulness  of  God ;  that  you  may 
know  what  is  the  height  and  depth,  the  length  and 
breadth  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus :  that  you  may 
be  in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  as  a  keen  archer  to  draw  the 
bow,  while  the  Lord  directs  and  fastens  the  arrows  of 
conviction  in  the  hearts  of  such  as  are  under  your 
ministry ! 

"  I  sincerely  pray  that  you  may  be  made  a  blessing  to 
him  that  has  taken  the  place  of  the  deceased.  I  have 
heard  that  you  are  fellow-countrymen :  I  hope  you  are, 
however,  both  as  strangers  in  this  world,  that  have  no 
abiding  place,  but  seek  a  country  out  of  sight. 
"Pray  excuse  all  faults,  from 

your  humble  servant  in  the 

bonds  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ, 

'E W ." 

When  I  perused  this  and  other  letters,  which  were  at 
different  times  written  to  me  by  the  Dairyman's  daughter, 
I  felt  that,  in  the  person  of  this  interesting  correspondent, 
were  singularly  tmited  the  characters  of  an  humble  dis- 
ciple and  a  faithful  monitor.  I  wished  to  acknowledge 
the  goodness  of  God  in  each  of  these  her  capacities. 

I  sometimes  entertain  a  hope  that  the  last  day  will 
unfold  the  value  of  these  epistolary  communications, 
beyond  even  any  present  estimate  of  their  spiritual 
importance. 


50  THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER. 


PART    lY. 

The  translation  of  sinners,  "from  the  power  of  dark- 
ness into  the  kingdom  of  God's  dear  Son,"  is  the  joy  of 
Christianstand  the  admiration  of  angels.  Every  penitent 
and  pardoned  soul  is  a  new  witness  to  the  triumphs  of 
the  Redeemer  over  sin,  death,  and  the  grave.  How  great 
the  change  that  is  wrought !  The  child  of  wrath  becomes 
a  monument  of  grace  —  a  brand  plucked  from  the  burn- 
ing !  "  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature : 
old  things  are  passed  away ;  behold,  all  things  are  become 
new."  How  marvellous,  how  interesting,  is  the  spiritual 
history  of  each  individual  believer  I  He  is,  like  David, 
"  a  wonder  unto  many ; "  but  the  greatest  wonder  of  all 
to  himself.  Others  may  doubt  whether  it  be  so,  or  not ; 
but  to  him  it  is  unequivocally  proved,  that,  from  first  to 
last,  grace  alone  reigns  in  the  work  of  his  salvation. 

The  character  and  privileges  of  real  Christians  are 
beautifully  described  in  the  language  of  our  church  ;  who, 
when  speaking  of  the  objects  of  divine  favour  and  com- 
passion, says :  "  They  that  be  endued  with  so  excellent  a 
benefit  of  God,  be  called  according  to  God's  purpose  in 
due  season :  they  through  grace  obey  the  calling :  they 
be  justified  freely:  they  be  made  sons  of  G-od  by  adop- 
tion :  they  be  made  like  the  image  of  his  only  begotten 
Son,  Jesus  Christ :  they  walk  religiously  in  good  works ; 
and  at  length  by  God's  mercy  they  attain  to  everlasting 
felicity." 

Such  a  conception  and  display  of  the  Almighty  wis- 
dom, power,  and  love,  is  indeed  ''full  of  sweet,  pleasant, 
and  unspeakable  comfort  to  godly  persons,  and  such  as 
feel  in  themselves  the  working  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ 
mortifying  the  works  of  the  flesh,  and  their  earthly 
members ;  and  drawing   up   their   minds   to  high  and 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTEE.  61 

heavenly  things :  it  doth  greatly  establish  and  conhrm 
their  faith  of  eternal  salvation,  to  be  enjoyed  through 
Christ,  and  doth  fervently  kindle  their  love  towards 
God." 

Nearly  allied  to  the  consolations  of  a  good  hope 
through  grace,  as  it  respects  our  own  personal  state 
before  God,  is  that  of  seeing  its  evidences  shed  lustre  over 
the  disposition  and  conduct  of  others.  Bright  was  the 
exhibition  of  the  union  between  true  Christian  enjoyment 
and  Christian  exertion,  in  the  character  whose  moral  and 
spiritual  features  I  am  attempting  to  delineate. 

It  seemed  to  be  the  first  wish  of  her  heart  to  prove  to 
others,  what  God  had  already  proved  to  her,  that  Jesus 
is  ''  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and  the  life."  She  desired 
to  evince  the  reality  of  her  calling,  justification,  and 
adoption  into  the  family  of  God,  by  showing  a  conformity 
to  the  image  of  Christ,  and  by  walking  ''religiously  in 
good  works : "  she  trusted,  that,  in  this  path  of  faith  and 
obedience,  she  should  ''at  length,  by  God's  mercy,  attain 
to  everlasting  felicity." 

I  had  the  spiritual  charge  of  another  parish,  adjoining 
to  that  in  which  I  resided.  It  was  a  small  district,  and 
had  but  few  inhabitants.  The  church  was  pleasantly 
situated  on  a  rising  bank,  at  the  foot  of  a  considerable 
hill.  It  was  surrounded  by  trees,  and  had  a  rural, 
retired  appearance.  Close  to  the  church -yard  stood  a 
large  old  mansion,  which  had  formerly  been  the  residence 
of  an  opulent  and  titled  family ;  but  it  had  long  since 
been  appropriated  to  the  use  of  the  estate  as  a  farm- 
house. Its  outward  aspect  bore  considerable  remains  of 
ancient  grandeur,  and  gave  a  pleasing  character  to  the 
spot  of  ground  on  which  the  church  stood. 

In  every  direction  the  roads  that  led  to  this  house  of 
God  possessed  distinct  but  interesting  features.  One  of 
them  ascended  between  several  rural  cottages,  from  the 
sea-shore,  which  adjoined  the  lower  part  of  the  village 


52  THE    dairyman's    D  AUG  II  tee. 

street.  Another  winded  round  the  curved  sides  of  the 
adjacent  hill,  and  was  adorned  both  above  and  below 
with  numerous  sheep,  feeding  on  the  herbage  of  the 
down.  A  third  road  led  to  the  church  by  a  gently  rising 
approach,  between  high  banks,  covered  with  young  trees, 
bushes,  ivy,  hedge-plants,  and  wild  flowers. 

From  a  point  of  land  which  commanded  a  view  of  all 
these  several  avenues,  I  used  sometimes  for  a  while  to 
watch  my  congregation  gradually  assembling  together  at 
the  hour  of  Sabbath  worship.  They  were  in  some  direc- 
tions visible  for  a  considerable  distance.  Gratifying 
associations  of  thought  would  form  in  my  mind,  as  I 
contemplated  their  approach,  and  successive  arrival 
within  the  precincts  of  the  house  of  prayer. 

Gne  day,  as  I  was  thus  occupied,  during  a  short  inter- 
val previous  to  the  joys  of  divine  service,  I  reflected  on 
the  hour  which  David  experienced,  at  the  time  he  ex- 
claimed: *'I  was  glad,  when  they  said  unto  me.  Let  us 
go  into  the  house  of  the  Lord.  Our  feet  shall  stand 
within  thy  gates,  0  Jerusalem.  Jerusalem  is  builded  as 
a  city  that  is  compact  together ;  whither  the  tribes  go 
up,  the  tribes  of  the  Lord,  unto  the  testimony  of  Israel, 
to  give  thanks  unto  the  name  of  the  Lord." 

I  was  led  to  reflect  upon  the  various  blessings  con- 
nected with  the  establishment  of  public  worship.  ''  How 
many  immortal  souls  are  now  gathering  together  to 
perform  the  all-important  work  of  prayer  and  praise  — 
to  hear  the  word  of  God — to  feed  upon  the  bread  of  life  I 
They  are  leaving  their  respective  dwellings,  and  will 
soon  be  united  together  in  the  house  of  prayer.  How 
beautifully  does  this  represent  the  effect  produced  by  the 
voice  of  'the  Good  Shepherd,'  calling  the  sheep  from 
every  part  of  the  wilderness  into  his  fold!  As  these 
fields,  hills,  and  lanes,  are  now  covered  with  men, 
women,  and  children,  in  various  directions,  drawing 
nearer  to  each  other,  and  to  the  object  of  their  journey's 


THE   dairyman's   daugiitee.  53 

end :  even  so,  many  '  shall  come  from  the  east,  and  from 
the  west,  and  from  the  north,  and  from  the  south,  and 
shall  sit  down  in  the  kingdom  of  God.' " 

Who  can  rightly  appreciate  the  value  of  such  hours 
as  these?  —  hours  spent  in  learning  the  ways  of  holy 
pleasantness  and  the  paths  of  heavenly  peace — hours 
devoted  to  the  service  of  God  and  of  souls ;  in  warning 
the  sinner  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come ;  in  teaching 
the  ignorant  how  to  live  and  die ;  in  preaching  the  gospel 
to  the  poor ;  in  healing  the  broken-hearted ;  in  declaring 
"  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of  sight  to 
the  blind." —  "  Blessed  is  the  people  that  know  the  joyful 
sound:  they  shall  walk,  O  Lord,  in  the  light  of  thy 
countenance.  In  thy  name  shall  they  rejoice  all  the  day, 
and  in  thy  righteousness  shall  they  be  exalted." 

My  thoughts  then  pursued  a  train  of  reflection  on  the 
importance  of  the  ministerial  office,  as  connected  in  the 
purposes  of  God  with  the  salvation  of  sinners.  I  inwardly 
prayed  that  those  many  individuals  whom  he  had  given 
me  to  instruct,  might  not,  through  my  neglect  or  error, 
be  as  sheep  having  no  shepherd,  nor  as  the  blind  led  by 
the  blind :  but  rather  that  I  might,  in  season,  and  out  of 
season,  faithfully  proclaim  the  simple  and  undisguised 
truths  of  the  gospel,  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  pros- 
perity of  his  church. 

At  that  instant,  near  the  bottom  of  the  enclosed  lane 
which  led  to  the  churchyard,  I  observed  a  friend,  whom, 
at  such  a  distance  from  his  own  home,  I  little  expected 
to  meet.  It  was  the  venerable  dairyman.  He  came  up 
the  ascent,  leaning  with  one  hand  on  his  trusty  staff,  and ' 
with  the  other  on  the  arm  of  a  younger  man,  well  known 
to  me,  who  appeared  to  be  much  gratified  in  meeting 
with  such  a  companion  by  the  way. 

My  station  was  on  the  top  of  one  of  the  banks  which 
formed  the  hollow  road  beneath.  They  passed  a  few 
yards  below  me.    I  was  concealed  from  their  sight  by  a 


54:  THE 

projecting  tree.  They  were  talking  of  the  mercies  of 
God,  and  the  unsearchable  riches  of  his  grace.  The 
dairyman  was  telling  his  companion  what  a  blessing  the 
Lord  had  given  him  in  his  daughter.  His  countenance 
brightened  as  he  named  her  and  called  her  his  precious 
Betsy. 

I  met  them  at  a  stile  not  many  yards  beyond,  and 
accompanied  them  to  the  church,  which  was  hard  by. 

"Sir,"  said  the  old  man,  '^ I  have  brought  a  letter  from 
my  daughter  —  I  hope  I  am  in  time  for  divine  service. 
Seven  miles  is  now  become  a  long  walk  for  me :  I  grow 
old  and  weak — I  am  very  glad  to  see  you.  Sir." 

"How  is  your  daughter?" 

"  Yery  poorly  indeed.  Sir :  very  poorly.  —  The  doctors 
say  it  is  a  decline.  I  sometimes  hope  she  will  get  the 
better  of  it;  but  then  again  I  have  many  fears.  You 
know.  Sir,  that  I  have  cause  to  love  and  prize  her.  O  I 
it  would  be  such  a  trial ;  but  the  Lord  knows  what  is 
best.     Excuse  my  weakness.  Sir." 

He  put  a  letter  into  my  hand,  the  perusal  of  which  I 
reserved  till  afterwards,  as  the  time  was  nigh  for  going 
into  church. 

The  presence  of  this  aged  pilgrim,  the  peculiar  reve- 
rence and  affection  with  which  he  joined  in  the  different 
parts  of  the  service,  excited  many  gratifying  thoughts  in 
my  mind;  such  as  rather  furthered  than  interrupted 
devotion. 

The  train  of  reflection  in  which  I  had  been  engaged, 
when  I  first  discovered  him  in  the  road,  at  intervals 
recurred  powerfully  to  my  feelings,  as  I  viewed  that 
very  congregation  assembled  together  in  the  house  of 
God,  whose  steps,  in  their  approaches  towards  it  I  had 
watched  with  prayerful  emotions. 

"Here  the  rich  and  poor  meet  together  in  mutual 
acknowledgment,  that  the  Lord  is  the  Maker  of  them  all ; 
and  that  all  are  alike  dependent  creatures,  looking  up  to 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  55 

one  common  Father  to  supply  their  wants,  both  temporal 
and  spiritual. 

''  Again,  likewise  will  they  meet  together  m  the  grave, 
that  undistinguishing  receptacle  of  the  opulent  and  the 
needy. 

"  And  once  more,  at  the  judgment:seat  of  Christ  shall 
the  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together,  that  ^  every  one 
may  receive  the  things  done  in  his  body,  according  to 
that  he  hath  done,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad.' 

''How  closely  connected  in  the  history  of  man  are 
these  three  periods  of  a  general  meeting  together ! 

"The  house  of  prayer — the  house  appointed  for  all 
living  —  and  the  house  not  made  with  hands  eternal  in 
the  heavens.  May  we  never  separate  these  ideas  from 
each  other,  but  retain  them  in  a  sacred  and  profitable 
union !  So  shall  our  worshipping  assemblies  on  earth 
be  representative  of  the  general  assembly  and  church  of 
the  first-born,  which  are  written  in  heaven." 

When  the  congregation  dispersed,  I  entered  into  dis- 
course with  the  Dairy  mar  and  a  few  ot  the  poor  of  my 
flock,  whose  minds  were  of  like  disposition  fo  his  own. 
He  seldom  could  speak  long  together  without  some 
reference  to  his  dear  child.  He  loved  to  tell  how  merci- 
ful his  God  had  been  to  him,  in  the  dutiful  and  affec- 
tionate attentions,  of  his  daughter.  All  real  Christians 
feel  a  tender  spiritual  attachment  toward  those  who  have 
been  the  instrument  of  bringing  them  to  an  aflfectual 
knowledge  of  the  way  of  salvation:  but  when  that 
instrument  is  one  so  nearly  allied,  how  dear  does  the 
relationship  become ! 

If  my  friend  the  dairyman  was  in  any  danger  of  falling 
into  idolatry,  his  child  would  have  been  the  idol  of  his 
affections.  She  was  the  prop  and  stay  of  her  parents' 
declining  years ;  and  they  scarcely  knew  how  sufficiently 
to  testify  the  gratitude  of  their  hearts,  for  the  comfort 
and  blessing  which  she  was  the  means  of  affording  them. 


56  THE   dairyman's  daughtee. 

While  lie  was  relating  several  particulars  of  his  family 
history  to  the  others,  I  opened  and  read  the  following  letter. 

'•  Sir, 

''Once  more  I  take  the  liberty  to  trouble  you 
with  a  few  lines.  I  received  your  letter  with  great 
pleasure,  and  thank  you  for  it.  I  am  now  so  weak,  that 
I  am  unable  to  walk  to  any  public  place  of  divine  wor- 
ship, a  privilege  which  has  heretofore  always  so  much 
strengthened  and  refreshed  me.  I  used  to  go  in  anxious 
expectation  to  meet  my  God,  and  hold  sweet  communion, 
with  him,  and  I  was  seldom  disappointed.  In  the  means 
of  grace,  all  the  channels  of  divine  mercy  are  open  to 
every  heart  that  is  lifted  up  to  receive  out  of  that  divine 
fulness  grace  for  grace.  These  are  the  times  of  refreshing 
from  the  presence  of  the  Lord.  How  have  I  rejoiced  to 
hear  a  faithful  and  lively  messenger,  just  come,  as  it 
were  from  communion  with  God  at  the  throne  of  grace, 
with  his  heart  warmed  and  filled  with  divine  love,  to 
speak  to  fallen  sinners !  Such  an  one  has  seemed  to  me 
as  if  his  fa^e  shone  as  that  of  Moses  did  with  the  glory 
of  God,  when  he  came  down  from  the  mount ;  where  he 
had  been  within  the  vail.  May  you.  Sir,  imitate  him, 
as  he  did  Christ,  that  all  may  see  and  know  that  the 
Lord  dwelleth  with  you,  and  that  you  dwell  in  him 
through  the  unity  of  the  blessed  Spirit.  I  trust  you  are 
no  stranger  to  his  divine  teaching,  aid,  and  assistance,  in 
all  you  set  your  hand  to  do  for  the  glory  of  God. 

"I  hope,  Sir,  the  sincerity  of  my  wishes  for  your 
spiritual  welfare  will  plead  an  excuse  for  the  freedom  of 
my  address  to  you.  I  pray  the  giver  of  every  perfect 
gift,  that  you  may  experience  the  mighty  workings  of 
his  gracious  Spirit  in  your  heart  and  your  ministry,  and 
rest  your  all  on  the  justifying  and  purifying  blood  of  an 
expiring  Eedeemer.  Then  will  you  triumph  in  his 
strength,  and  be  enabled  to  say  with  the  poet :  — 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  57 

'  Shall  I  through  fear  of  feeble  men 
The  Spirit's  course  strive  to  restrain  ? 
Or,  undismay'd  in  deed  and  word, 
Be  a  true  witness  for  my  Lord  ? 

*Aw'd  by  a  mortal's  frown,  shall  I 
ConceaUhe  Word  of  God  most  high  ? 
How  then  before  thee  shall  I  dare 
To  stand,  or  how  thine  anger  bear  ? 

'  Shall  I,  to  soothe  th'  unholy  throng, 
Soften  thy  truths,  and  smooth  my  tongue, 
To  gain  earth's  gilded  toys,  or  flee 
The  cross  endur'd,  my  God,  by  thee  ? 

*  What  then  is  he,  whose  scorn  I  dread, 
Whose  wrath  or  hate  makes  me  afraid  ? 
A  man!  an 'heir  of  death!  a  slave 

To  sin,  a  bubble  on  the  wave  ? 

*  Yea,  let  men  rage,  since  thou  wilt  spread 
Thy  shadowing  wings  around  my  head : 
Since  in  all  pain  thy  tender  love 

Will  still  my  sure  refreshment  prove. 

*  Still  shall  the  love  of  Christ  constrain 
To  seek  the  wand'ring  souls  of  men, 
With  cries,  entreaties,  tears  to  save, 

And  snatch  them  from  the  yawning  grave. 

'  For  this  let  men  revile  my  name, 
No  cross  I  shun,  I  fear  no  shame : 
All  hail  reproach,  and  welcome  pain. 
Only  thy  terrors,  Lord,  restrain.' 

"  I  trust,  Sir,  that  you  see  wliat  a  glorious  higli  calling 
yours  is,  and  that  you  are  one  of  those  who  walk  humbly 
with  God,  that  you  may  be  taught  of  him  in  all  things. 
Persons  in  your  place  are  messengers  of  the  most  high 
God.  It  is  too  much  to  say,  they  should  live  like  the 
angels  in  all  holiness,  and  be  filled  with  love  and  zeal 
for  men's  souls?  They  are  ambassadors,  in  Christ's 
stead,  to  persuade  sinners  to  be  reconciled  to  God.     So 


58  THE     DAIKY  man's    DAUGHTEB. 

that  your  calling  is  above  that  of  angels :  for  tliey  are 
afterward  to  minister  to  the  heirs  of  salvation ;  but  the 
sinner  must  be  first  reconciled  to  God.  And  you  are 
called  upon  from  day  to  day  to  intercede  with  man,  as 
his  friend,  that  you  may  win  souls  to  Christ.  Christ  is 
ascended  up  on  high,  to  intercede  with  his  Father  for 
guilty  sinners,  and  to  plead  for  them  the  merits  of  his 
death.  So  that  Christ  and  his  faithful  ministers,  through 
the  operation  of  the  blessed  Spirit,  are  co-workers 
together.  Yet  without  him  we  can  do  nothing;  our 
strength  is  his  strength,  and  his  is  all  the  glory  from 
first  to  last. 

"It  is  my  heart's  prayer  and  desire.  Sir,  that  you 
may,  by  a  living  faith,  cleave  close  to  that  blessed, 
exalted  Lamb  of  God,  who  died  to  redeem  us  from  sin — 
that  you  may  have  a  sweet  communion  with  Father, 
Son,  and  Spirit — that  you  may  sink  deep  in  humble 
love,  and  rise  high  in  the  life  of  God.  Thus  will  you 
have  such  discoveries  of  the  beauties  of  Christ  and  his 
eternal  glory,  as  will  fill  your  heart  with  true  delight. 

"If  I  am  not  deceived,  I  wish  myself  to  enjoy  his 
gracious  favour,  more  than  all  the  treasures  which  earth 
can  afford.  I  would  in  comparison  look  upon  them  with 
holy  disdain,  and  as  not  worth  an  anxious  thought,  that 
they  may  not  have  power  on  my  heart,  to  draw  or  attract 
it  from  God,  who  is  worthy  of  my  highest  esteem,  and 
of  all  my  affections.  It  should  be  our  endeavour  to  set 
him  alway  before  us,  that  in  all  things  we  may  act  as  in 
his  immediate  presence :  that  we  may  be  filled  with  that 
holy  fear,  so  that  we  -may  not  dare  wilfully  to  sin  against 
him.  "We  should  earnestly  entreat  the  Lord  to  mortify 
the  power  and  workings  of  sin  and  unbelief  within  us, 
by  making  Christ  appear  more  and  more  precious  in  our 
eyes,  and  more  dear  to  our  hearts. 

"  It  fills  my  heart  with  thankful  recollections,  while  I 
attempt  in  this  weak  manner  to  speak  of  God's  love  to 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  59 

man.  When  I  reflect  on  my  past  sins  and  Ms  past 
mercies,  I  am  assured,  that  if  I  had  all  the  gifts  of  wise 
men  and  angels,  I  could  never  sufficiently  describe  my 
own  inward  sense  of  his  undeserved  love  towards  me. 
We  can  better  enjoy  these  glorious  apprehensions  in  our 
hearts,  than  explain  them  to  others.  But,  0 1  how 
■unworthy  of  them  all  are  we  !  Consciousness  of  my  own 
corruptions  keeps  me  ofteu  low ;  yet  faith  and  desire  will 
eagerly  mount  on  high,  beseeching  God  that  he  would, 
according  to  the  Apostle's  prayer,  fill  me  with  all  his 
communicable  fulness,  in  the  gifts  and  graces  of  his 
Spirit ;  that  I  may  walk  well-pleasing  before  him,  in  all 
holy  conversation,  perfecting  holiness  in  his  fear. 

"  If  I  err  in  boldness.  Sir,  pray  pardon  me,  and  in 
your  next  letter  confirm  my  hope,  that  you  will  be  my 
counsellor  and  guide. 

"I  can  only  recompense  your  kindness  to  me  by  my 
prayers,  that  your  own  intercourse  with  God  may  be 
abundantly  blessed  to  you  and  yours.  I  consider  the 
Saviour  saying  to  you,  as  he  did  to  Peter,  '  Lovest  thou 
me  ? '  And  may  you  by  heartfelt  experience  be  com- 
pelled to  reply,  'Thou  knowest  all  things,  and  thou 
knowest  that  I  love  thee '  supremely.  May  he  have 
evident  marks  of  it  in  all  your  outward  actions  of  love 
and  humanity,  in  feeding  his  flock,  and  in  the  inward 
fervour  and  affection  of  all  your  consecrated  powers: 
that  you  may  be  zealously  engaged  in  pulling  down  the 
strong  holds  of  sin  and  Satan,  and  building  up  his  church ; 
sowing  the  seeds  of  righteousness,  and  praying  God  to 
give  the  increase — that  you  may  not  labour  for  him  in 
vain  ;  but  may  see  the  trees  bud  and  blossom,  and  bring 
forth  fruit  abundantly,  to  the  praise  and  glory  of  your 
heavenly  Master.  In  order  to  give  you  encouragement 
he  says,  whosoever  '  converteth  a  sinner  from  the  error 
of  his  way,  shall  save  a  soul  from  death : '  and  that  will 


60  THE    DAIEYMAN'S     DAUGHTER. 

increase  the  brightness  of  your  crown  in  glory.     This 
hath  Christ  merited  for  his  faithful  ministers. 

''  I  hope,  Sir,  you  will  receive  grace  to  be  sincere  in 
reproving  sin,  wherever  you  see  it.  You  will  find  divine 
assistance,  and  all  fear  and  shame  taken  from  you.  Great 
peace  will  be  given  to  you,  and  wisdom,  strength,  and 
courage,  according  to  your  work.  You  will  be  as  Paul ; 
having  much  learning,  you  can  speak  to  men  in  all 
stations  in  life,  by  God's  assistance.  The  fear  of  offend- 
ing them  will  never  prevent  you,  when  you  consider  the 
glory  of  God ;  and  man's  immortal  soul  is  of  more  value, 
than  his  present  favour  and  esteem.  In  particular,  you 
are  in  an  office  wherein  you  can  visit  all  the  sick.  Man's 
extremity  is  often  God's  opportunity.  In  this  way  you 
may  prove  an  instrument  in  his  hand  to  do  his  work. 
Although  he  can  work  without  means,  yet  his  usual  way 
is  by  means :  and  I  trust  you  are  a  chosen  vessel  unto 
him,  to  prove  his  name  and  declare  his  truth  to  all  men. 

''  Visiting  the  sick  is  a  strict  command,  and  a  duty  for 
every  Christian.  None  can  tell  what  good  may  be  done. 
I  wish  it  was  never  neglected,  as  it  too  often  is.  Many 
think,  that  if  they  attend  in  the  church,  the  minister  to 
preach,  and  the  people  to  hear,  their  duty  is  done.  But 
more  is  required  than  this.  May  the  Lord  stir  up  the 
gift  that  is  in  his  people  and  ministers,  that  they  may 
have  compassion  on  their  fellow-sinners,  that  they  may 
never  think  it  too  late,  but  remember,  that,  while  there 
is  life,  there  is  hope ! 

''Once  more,  I  pray.  Sir,  pardon  and  excuse  all  my 
errors  in  judgment,  and  the  ignorance  that  this  is  penned 
in ;  and  may  God  bless  you  in  all  things,  and  particularly 
your  friendship  to  me  and  my  parents !  What  a  comfort 
is  family  religion!  I  do  not  doubt,  but  this  is  your 
desire,  as  it  is  mine  to  say, 


THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTEE.  61 

'  I  and  my  house  will  serve  the  Lord, 
But  first  obedient  to  his  word 

I  must  myself  appear : 
By  actions,  words,  and  tempers  show, 
That  I  my  heavenly  Master  know. 

And  serve  with  heart  sincere. 

*  I  must  the  fair  example  set. 

From  those  that  on  my  pleasure  wait 

The  stumbling  block  remove  ; 
Their  duty  by  my  life  explain, 
And  still  in  all  my  works  maintain 

The  dignity  of  love. 

*  Easy  to  be  entreated,  mild, 
Quickly  appeased  and  reconciled, 

A  follower  of  my  God  : 
A  saint  indeed  I  long  to  be, 
And  lead  my  faithful  family 

In  the  celestial  road. 

*  Lord,  if  thou  dost  the  wish  infuse, 
A  vessel  fitted  for  thy  use 

Into  thy  hands  receive  : 
Work  in  me  both  to  will  and  do, 
And  show  them  how  believers  true 

And  real  Christians  live. 

*  With  all-sufficient  grace  supply. 
And  then  I'll  come  to  testify 

The  wonders  of  thy  name. 
Which  saves  from  sin,  the  world,  and  hell ; 
Its  power  may  every  sinner  feel, 

And  every  tongue  proclaim  I 

'  Cleans'd  by  the  blood  of  Christ  from  sin, 
I  seek  my  relatives  to  win. 

And  preach  their  sins  forgiven  ; 
Children,  and  wife,  and  servants  seize. 
And  through  the  paths  of  pleasantness. 

Conduct  them  all  to  heaven.' 


62  THE   dairyman's   daughter. 

''Living  so  mucli  in  a  solitary  way,  books  are  my 
companions;  and  poetry  whicli  speaks  of  the  love  of 
God  and  the  mercies  of  Christ,  is  very  sweet  to  my  mind. 
This  must  be  my  excuse  for  troubling  you  to  read  verses 
which   others   have  written.     I   have   intended,  if  my 

declining  state  of  health  permit,  to  go  to for  a  few 

days.  I  say  this,  lest  you  should  call  in  expectation  of 
seeing  me,  during  any  part  of  next  week.  But  my  dear 
father  and  mother,  for  whose  precious  souls  I  am  very 
anxious,  will  reap  the  benefit  of  your  visit  at  all  events. 
From 

"  Your  humble  and  unworthy  servant, 

''E W ." 

Having  read  it,  I  said  to  the  father  of  my  highly 
valued  correspondent, 

''I  thank  you  for  being  the  .bearer  of  this  letter:  your 
daughter  is  a  kind  friend  and  faithful  counsellor  to  me, 
as  well  as  to  you.  Tell  her  how  highly  I  esteem  her 
friendship,  and  that  I  feel  truly  obliged  for  the  many 
excellent  sentiments  which  she  has  here  expressed.  Give 
her  my  blessing,  and  assure  her  that  the  oftener  she 
writes,  the  more  thankful  I  shall  be." 

The  Dairyman's  enlivened  eye  gleamed  with  pleasure 
as  I  spoke.  The  praise  of  his  Elizabeth  was  a  string 
which  could  not  be  touched  without  causing  every  nerve 
of  his  whole  frame  to  vibrate. 

His  voice  half  faltered,  as  he  spoke  in  reply ;  the  tear 
started  in  his  eyes ;  his  hand  trembled  as  I  pressed  it ; 
his  heart  was  full ;  he  could  only  say, 

"  Sir,  a  poor  old  man  thanks  you  for  your  kindness  to 
him  and  his  family ;  God  bless  you,  Sir ;  I  hope  we  shall 
soon  see  you  again." 

Thus  we  parted  for  that  day. 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER  63 


PAET  Y. 

It  has  not  nnfrequently  been  observed,  tbat  when  it 
is  the  Lord's  pleasure  to  remove  any  of  his  faithful 
followers  out  of  this  life  at  an  early  period  of  their 
course,  they  make  rapid  progress  in  the  experience  of 
divine  truth.  The  fruits  of  the  Spirit  ripen  fast,  as  they 
advance  to  the  close  of  mortal  existence.  In  particular, 
they  grow  in  humility,  through  a  deeper  sense  of  inward 
corruption,  and  a  clearer  view  of  the  perfect  character 
of  the  Saviour.  Disease  and  bodily  weakness  make  the 
thoughts  of  eternity  recur  with  frequency  and  power. 
The  great  question  of  their  own  personal  salvation,  the 
quality  of  their  faith,  the  sincerity  of  their  love,  and  the 
purity  of  their  hope,  is  in  Continual  exercise. 

Unseen  realities,  at  such  a  time,  occupy  a  larger  por- 
tion of  thought  than  before.  The  state  of  existence 
beyond  the  grave,  the  invisible  world,  the  unalterable 
character  of  the  dead,  the  future  judgment,  the  total 
separation  from  every  thing  earthly,  the  dissolution  of 
body  and  spirit,  and  their  reunion  at  the  solemn  hour 
of  resurrection  —  these  are  subjects  for  their  meditation, 
which  call  for  serious  earnestness  of  soul.  Whatever 
consolations  from  the  Spirit  of  God  they  may  have 
enjoyed  heretofore,  they  become  now  doubly  anxious  to 
examine  and  prove  themselves,  '*  whether  they  be  indeed 
in  the  faith."  In  doing  this  they  sometimes  pass  through 
hidden  conflicts  of  a  dark  and  distressing  nature:  from 
which,  however,  they  come  forth,  like  gold  tried  in  the 
furnace.  Awhile  they  may  sow  in  tears,  but  soon  they 
reap  in  joy. 

Their  religious  feelings  have  then,  perhaps,  less  of 
ecstacy,  but  more  of  serenity. 

As  the  ears  of  corn  ripen  for  the  harvest,  they  bow 


64  THE  dairyman's  daughter. 

their  heads  nearer  to  the  ground.  So  it  is  with  believers ; 
they  then  see  more  than  ever  of  their  own  imperfections, 
and  often  express  their  sense  of  it  in  strong  language : 
yet  they  repose  with  a  growing  confidence  on  the  love 
of  God  through  Christ  Jesus.  The  nearer  they  advance 
to  their  eternal  rest,  the  more  humble  they  become,  but 
not  the  less  useful  in  their  sphere.  They  feel  anxiously 
desirous  of  improving  every  talent  they  possess,  to  the 
glory  of  God,  knowing  that  the  time  is  short. 

I  thought  I  observed  the  truth  of  these  remarks  ful- 
filled in  the  progressive  state  of  mind  of  the  Dairyman's 
daughter. 

Declining  health  seemed  to  indicate  the  will  of  God 
concerning  her.  But  her  character,  conduct,  and  expe- 
rience of  the  divine  favour,  increased  in  brightness  as 
the  setting  sun  of  her  mortal  life  approached  its  horizon. 
The  last  letter  which,  with  th*  exception  of  a  very  short 
note,  1  ever  received  from  her,  I  shall  now  transcribe. 
It  appeared  to  me  to  bear  the  marks  of  a  still  deeper 
acquaintance  with  the  workings  of  her  own  heart,  and  a 
more  entire  reliance  upon  the  free  mercy  of  God. 

The  original,  while  I  copy  it,  strongly  revives  the 
image  of  the  deceased,  and  the  many  profitable  conversa- 
tions which  I  once  enjoyed  in  her  company,  and  that  of 
her  parents.  It  again  endears  to  me  the  recollections 
of  cottage  piety,  and  helps  me  to  anticipate  the  joys  of 
that  day,  when  the  spirits  of  the  glorified  saints  shall  be 
reunited  to  their  bodies,  and  be  for  ever  with  the  Lord. 

The  writer  of  this  and  the  preceding  letters  herself 
little  imagined,  when  they  were  penned,  that  they  would 
ever  be  submitted  to  the  public  eye :  that  they  now  are 
so,  results  from  a  conviction  that  the  friends  of  the  pious 
poor  will  estimate  them  according  to  their  value ;  and  a 
hope  that  it  may  please  God  to  honour  these  memorials 
of  the  dead,  to  the  effectual  edification  of  the  living. 


THE     DAIKY  man's    DAUGHTER.  65 

''Key.  SiE, 

''  In  consequence  of  your  kind  permission,  I 
take  tke  liberty  to  trouble  you  with  another  of  my  ill- 
written  letters ;  and  I  trust  you  have  too  much  of  your 
blessed  Master's  lowly,  meek,  and  humble  mind,  to  be 
offended  with  a  poor,  simple,  ignorant  creature,  whose 
intentions  are  pure  and  sincere  in  writing.  My  desire 
is,  that  I,  a  weak  vessel  of  his  grace,  may  glorify  his 
name  for  his  goodness  towards  me.  May  the  Lord  direct 
me  by  his  counsel  and  wisdom.  May  he  overshadow  me 
with  his  presence ;  that  I  may  sit  beneath  the  banner  of 
his  love,  and  find  the  consolations  of  his  blessed  Spirit 
sweet  and  refreshing  to  my  soul ! 

^'When  I  feel  that  I  am  nothing,  and  God  is  all  in  all, 
then  I  can  willingly  fly  to  him,  saying,  '  Lord,  help  me ; 
be  unto  me  my  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King.  Let  me 
know  the  teaching  of  thy  grace,  and  the  disclosing  of  thy 
love.'  What  nearness  of  access  might  we  have  if  we 
lived  more  near  to  God!  What  sweet  communion  might 
we  have  with  a  God  of  love !  He  is  the  great  I  AM. 
How  glorious  a  name  I  Angels  with  trembling  awe 
prostrate  themselves  before  him,  and  in  humble  love 
adore  and  worship  him.     One  says, 

^  While  the  first  archangel  sings, 
He  hides  his  face  behind  his  wings.'  • 

Unworthy  as  I  am,  I  have  found  it  by  expenence,  that 
the  more  I  see  of  the  greatness  and  goodness  of  God,  and 
the  nearer  union  I  hope  I  have  had  with  him  through 
the  Spirit  of  his  love,  the  more  humble  and  self- abased  I 
have  been. 

"But  every  day  I  may  say,  'Lord,  how  little  I  love 
thee,  how  far  I  live  from  thee,  how  little  I  am  like  thee 
in  humility  I '  It  is  nevertheless  my  heart's  desire  to 
love  and  serve  him  better.  I  find  the  way  in  which 
God  does  more  particularly  bless  me,  is  when  I  attend 

6* 


66  THE   dairyman's  daughter. 

on  the  public  ordinances  of  religion..  These  are  the 
channels  through  which  he  conveys*  the  riches  of  his 
grace  and  precious  love  to  my  soul.  These  I  have  often 
found  to  be  indeed  the  time  of  refreshing  and  strength- 
ening from  the  presence  of  the  Lord.  Then  I  can  see 
my  hope  of  an  interest  in  the  covenant  of  his  love,  and 
praise  him  for  his  mercy  to  the  greatest  of  sinners. 

''I  earnestly  wish  to  be  more  established  in  his  ways, 
and  to  honour  him  in  the  path  of  duty,  whilst  I  enjoy 
the  smiles  of  his  favour.  In  the  midst  of  all  outward 
afflictions  I  pray  that  I  may  know  Christ  and  the  power 
of  his  resurrection  within  my  soul.  If  I  were  always 
thus,  my  summer  would  last  all  the  year;  my  will  would 
then  be  sweetly  lost  in  God's  will,  and  I  should  feel  a 
resignation  to  every  dispensation  of  his  providence  and 
his  grace,  saying,  '  Good  is  the  will  of  the  Lord :  Infinite 
Wisdom  cannot  err.'  Then  would  patience  have  its 
perfect  work. 

''  But,  alas !  sin  and  unbelief  often,  too  often,  interrupt 
these  frames,  and  lay  me  low  before  God  in  tears  of 
sorrow.  I  often  think  what  a  happiness  it  would  be,  if 
his  love  were  so  fixed  in  my  heart,  that  I  might  willingly 
obey  him  with  alacrity  and  delight,  and  gradually  mortify 
the  power  of  self-will,  passion,  and  pride.  This  can  only 
arise  from  a  good  hope  through  grace,  that  we  are  washed 
in  that  precious  blood  which  cleanses  .us  from  every 
sinful  staift,  and  makes  us  new  creatures  in  Christ.  O 
that  we  may  be  the  happy  witnesses  of  the  saving  power 
and  virtue  of  that  healing  stream  which  flows  from  the 
fountain  of  everlasting  love ! 

"  Sir,  my  faith  is  often  exceedingly  weak :  can  you  be 
so  kind  as  to  tell  me,  what  you  have  found  to  be  the 
most  effectual  means  of  strengthening  it  ?  I  often  think 
how  plainly  the  Lord  declares.  Believe  only,  and  thou 
shalt  be  saved.  Only  have  faith ;  all  things  are  possible 
to  him  that  has  it.     How  I  wish  that  we  could  remove 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  67 

all  those  mountains  tliat  hinder  and  obstruct  the  light 
of  his  grace;  so  that,  having  full  access  unto  God 
through  that  ever-blessed  SjDirit,  we  might  lovingly  com- 
mune with  him  as  with  the  dearest  of  friends.  "What 
favour  doth  God  bestow  on  worms !  And  yet  we  love 
to  murmur  and  complain.  Pie  may  well  say,  What 
should  I  have  done  more,  that  I  have  not  done  ?  or 
wherein  have  I  proved  unfaithful  or  unkind  to  my  faith- 
less backsliding  children  ? 

"  Sir,  I  pray  that  I  may  not  grieve  him,  as  I  have 
done,  any  more.  I  want  your  counsel  and  your  prayers 
for  me  in  this  matter.  How  refreshing  is  the  sight  of 
one  that  truly  loves  God,  that  bears  his  image  and 
likeness  1 

"  But  delightful  as  is  conversation  with  true  believers 
on  earth,  whose  hearts  are  lifted  up  to  things  above,  yet 
what  is  this  to  that  happy  day  which  will  admit  us  into 
more  bright  realms ;  where  we  shall  for  ever  behold  a 
God  of  love  in  the  smiling  face  of  his  Son  who  is  the 
express  image  of  his  Father  and  the  brightness  of  his 
glory  ?  Then,  if  found  in  him,  we  shall  be  received  by 
the  innumerable  hosts  of  angels  who  wait  around  his 
throne. 

"  In  the  mean  time.  Sir,  may  I  take  up  my  cross,  and 
manfully  fight  under  Him,  who  for  the  glory  that  was 
set  before  him,  endured  the  cross,  despised  the  shame, 
and  is  now  set  down  at  his  Father's  right  hand  in  majesty ! 
I  thank  you  for  the  kind  liberty  you  have  given  me  of 
writing  to  you.  I  feel  my  health  declining,  and  I  find  a 
relief  during  an  hour  of  pain  and  weakness  in  communi- 
eating  these  thoughts  to  you. 

"  I  hope.  Sir,  you  go  on  your  way  rejoicing ;  that  you 
are  enabled  to  thank  Him  who  is  the  Giver  of  every 
good  gift,  spiritual,  temporal,  and  providential,  for  bless- 
ings to  yourself  and  your  ministry.  I  do  not  doubt  but 
you  often  meet  with  circumstances  which  are  not  pleasing 


^S  THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER. 

to  nature,  yet,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  tbey  will  be  all 
prdfitable  in  the  end.  They  are  kindly  designed  by 
grace  to  make  and  keep  us  humble.  The  difficulties  which 
you  spoke  of  to  me  some  time  since  will,  I  trust,  disappear. 

"  My  dear  father  and  mother  are  as  well  as  usual  in 
bodily  health,  and  I  hope  grow  in  grace,  and  in  the . 
knowledge  and  love  of  Jesus  Christ.  My  chief  desire  to 
live  is  for  their  sakes.  It  now  seems  long  since  we  have 
seen  you.  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  request  you  to  come 
to  our  little  cottage  to  visit  those  who  are  so  much  below 
your  station  in  life.  But  if  you  cannot  come,  we  shall 
be  very  glad  if  you  will  write  a  few  lines.  I  ought  to 
make  an  excuse  for  my  letter,  I  spell  so  badly :  this  was 
a  great  neglect  when  I  was  young.  I  gave  myself  greatly 
to  reading  but  not  to  the  other,  and  now  I  am  too  weak 
and  feeble  to  learn  much. 

"  I  hear  sometimes  of  persons  growing  serious  in  your 
congregation.  It  gives  me  joy,  and  if  true,  I  am  sure  it 
does  so  to  yourself  I  long  for  the  pure  gospel  of  Christ 
to  be  preached  in  every  church  in  the  world,  and  for  the 
time  when  all  shall  know,  love,  and  fear  the  Lord;  and 
the  uniting  Spirit  of  God  shall  make  them  of  one  heart 
and  mind  in  Christ  our  great  Head.  Your  greatest  joy 
I  know  will  be  in  labouring  much  for  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  salvation  of  men's  souls.  You  serve  a  good 
Master.  You  have  a  sure  reward.  I  pray  God  to  give 
you  strength  according  to  your  day. 

"Pray,  Sir,  do  not  be  offended  at  the  freedom  and 
manner  of  my  writing.  My  parents'  duty  and  love  to 
you  are  sent  with  these  lines,  from 

"  Your  humble  servant  in  Christ, 

"E W ." 

Epistolary  communications,  when  written  in  sincerity 
of  heart,  afford  genuine  portraits  of  the  mind.  May  the 
foregoing  be  viewed  with  Christian  candour,  and  conse- 
crated to  affectionate  memory ! 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  69 


PAET    YI 

Travellers,  as  they  pass  througli  the  country,  iisiially 
stop  to  inquire  whose  are  the  splendid  mansions  which 
they  discover  among  the  woods  and  plains  around  them. 
The  families,  titles,  fortune,  or  character  of  the  respec- 
tive owners,  engage  much  attention.  Perhaps  their 
houses  are  exhibited  to  the  admiring  stranger.  The 
elegant  rooms,  costly  furniture,  valuable  paintings,  beau- 
tiful gardens  and  shrubberies,  are  universally  approved ; 
while  the  rank,  fashion,  taste,  and  riches  of  the  possessor, 
afford  ample  materials  for  entertaining  discussion.  In 
the  mean  time,  the  lowly  cottage  of  the  poor  husbandman 
is  passed  by  as  scarcely  deserving  of  notice.  Yet  per- 
chance such  a  cottage  may  often  contain  a  treasure  of 
infinitely  more  value  than  the  sumptuous  palace  of  the 
rich  man*,  even  'Hhe  pearl  of  great  price."  If  this  be 
set  in  the  heart  of  the  poor  cottager,  it  proves  a  gem  of 
unspeakable  Avorth,  and  will  shine  among  the  brightest 
ornaments  of  the  Redeemer's  crown,  in  that  day  when 
he  maketh  up  his  "jewels." 

Hence,  the  Christian  traveller,  while  in  common  with 
others  he  bestows  his  due  share  of  applause  on  the  deco- 
rations of  the  rich,  and  is  not  insensible  to  the  beauties 
and  magnificence  which  are  the  lawfully  allowed  append- 
ages of  rank  and  fortune,  cannot  overlook  the  humbler 
dwelling  of  the  poor.  And  if  he  should  find  that  true 
piety  and  grace  beneath  the  thatched  roof,  which  he  has 
in  vain  looked  for  amidst  the  worldly  grandeur  of  the 
rich,  he  remembers  the  declarations  in  the  Word  of  God. 
He  sees  with  admiration,  that  "  the  high  and  lofty  One, 
that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy,  who 
dwelleth  in  the  high  and  holy  place,  dwelleth  with  him 
also  that  is  of  a  contrite  and  humble  spirit,"  (Isaiah,  Ivii. 


70  THE     dairyman's     DAUGHTER. 

15 ;)  and  althougli  heaven  is  his  throne,  and  the  earth  his 
footstool;  yet,  when  a  house  is  to  be  built,  and  a  place 
of  rest  to  be  sought  for  himself,  he  says,  "  To  this  man 
will  I  look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor,  and  of  a  contrite 
spirit,  and  trembleth  at  my  word." -^  Is.  Ixii.  1,  2. 

When  a  house  is  thus  tenanted,  faith  beholds  this 
inscription  written  on  the  walls.  The  Lord  lives  here. 
Faith  therefore  cannot  pass  it  by  unnoticed,  but  loves  to 
lift  up  the  latch  of  the  door,  and  to  sit  down  and  con- 
verse with  the  poor  although  perhaps  despised  inhabitant. 
Many  a  sweet  interview  does  Faith  obtain,  when  she 
thus  takes  her  walks  abroad.  Many  such  a  sweet  inter- 
view have  I  myself  enjoyed  beneath  the  roof  where  dwelt 
the  Dairyman  and  his  little  family. 

I  soon  perceived  that  his  daughter's  health  was  rapidly 
on  the  decline.  The  pale  wasting  consumption,  which 
is  the  Lord's  instrument  for  removing  so  many  thousands 
every  year  from  the  land  of  the  living,  made  hasty  strides 
on  her  constitution.  The  hollow  eye,  the  distressing 
cough,  and  the  often  too  flattering  red  on  the  cheek,  fore- 
told the  approach  of  death. 

What  a  field  for  usefulness  and  affectionate  attention, 
on  the  part  of  Ministers  and  Christian  friends,  is  opened 
by  the  frequent  attacks,  and  lingering  progress  of  con- 
sumptwe  illness !  How  many  such  precious  opportuni- 
ties are  daily  lost,  where  Providence  seems  in  so  marked 
a  way  to  afford  time  and  space  for  serious  and  godly 
instruction !  Of  how  many  may  it  be  said,  "  The  way 
of  peace  have  they  not  known  !  "  for  not  one  friend  ever 
came  nigh,  to  warn  them  to  ''flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come." 

But  the  Dairyman's  daughter  was  happily  made 
acquainted  with  the  things  which  belonged  to  her  ever- 
lasting peace  before  the  present  disease  had  taken  root 
in  her  constitution..  In  my  visits  to  her,  I  went  rather 
to  receive  information  than  to  impart  it.     Her  mind  was 


THE   dairyman's   daughtee.  71 

abundantly  stored  witli  divine  truths,  and  her  conversa- 
tion was  truly  edifying.  The  recollection  of  it  must  ever 
produce  a  thankful  sensation  in  my  heart. 

I  one  day  received  a  short  note  to  the  following  effect: 

'•  Dear  SiE; 

''I  should  be  very  glad,  if  your  conve- 
nience will  allow,  that  you  would  come  and  see  a  poor 
unworthy  sinner :  my  hour-glass  is  nearly  run  out,  but 
I  hope  I  can  see  Christ  to  be  precious  to  my  soul.  Your 
conversation  has  often  been  blessed  to  me,  and  I  now 
■feel  the  need  of  it  more  than  ever.  My  father  and  mother 
send  their  duty  to  yon. 

"  From  your  obedient, 

"  And  unworthy  servant, 

"E -W ." 

I  obeyed  the  summons  that  same  afternoon.  On  my 
arrival  at  the  Dairyman's  ^  cottage,  his  wife  opened  the 
door.  The  tears  streamed  down  her  cheek,  as  she  silently 
shook  her  head.  Her  heart  was  full.  She  tried  to  speak, 
but  could  not.     I  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said, 

"  My  good  friend,  all  is  right,  and  as  the  Lord  of  wis- 
dom and  mercy  directs." 

''01  my  Betsy,  my  dear  girl,  is  so  bad.  Sir:  what 
shall  I  do  without  her? — I  thought  I  should  have  gone 
first  to  the  grave,  but ." 

"  But,  the  Lord  sees  good  that  before  you  die  yourself, 
you  should  behold  your  child  safe  home  to  glory.  Is 
there  no  mercy  in  this  ?  " 

"  O  dear  Sir !  I  am  very  old  and  very  weak ;  and  she 
is  a  dear  child,  the  stafi'  and  prop  of  a  poor  old  creature, 
as  I  am." 

As  I  advanced,  I  saw  Elizabeth  sitting  by  the  fire-side, 
supported  in  an  arm-chair  by  pillows,  Avith  every  mark 
of  rapid  decline  and  approaching  death      A  sweet  smile 


72  THE  dairyman's  daughter. 

of  friendly  complacency  enliglitened  her  pale  countenance; 
as  she  said, 

"  This  is  very  kind  indeed.  Sir,  to  come  so  soon  after 
I  sent  to  yon.  You  find  me  daily  wasting  away,  and  I 
cannot  have  long  to  continue  here.  My  flesh  and  my 
heart  fail;  but  God  is  the  strength  of  my  weak  heart, 
and  I  trust  will  be  my  portion  for  ever." 

The  conversation  was  occasionally  interrupted  by  her 
cough  and  want  of  breath.  Her  tone  of  voice  was  clear, 
though  feeble ;  her  manner  solemn  and  collected,  and  her 
eye  though  more  dim  than  formerly,  by  no  means  want- 
ing in  liveliness,  as  she  spoke.  I  had  frequently  admired 
the  superior  language  in  which  she  expressed  her  ideas, 
as  well  as  the  scriptural  consistency  with  which  she 
communicated  her  thoughts.  She  had  a  good  natural 
understanding;  and  grace,  as  is  generally  the  case,  had 
much  improved  it.  On  the  present  occasion  I  could  not 
help  thinking  she  was  peculiarly  favoured.  The  whole 
strength  of  gracious  and  natural  attainments  seemed  to 
be  in  full  exercise. 

After  taking  my  seat  between  the  daughter  and  the 
mother,  (the  latter  fixing  her  fond  eyes  upon  her  child 
with  great  anxiety  while  we  were  conversing,)  I  said  to 
Elizabeth, 

"  I  hope  you  enjoy  a  sense  of  the  Divine  presence,  and 
can  rest  all  upon  him  who  has  'been  with  thee,'  and  has 
kept  Hhee  in  all  places  whither  thou  hast  gone,'  and  will 
bring  thee  into  Hhe  land  of  pure  delights,  where  saints 
immortal  reign.' " 

"  Sir,  I  think  I  can.  My  mind  has  lately  been  some- 
times clouded,  but  I  believe  it  has  been  partly  owing  to 
the  great  weakness  and  suffering  of  my  bodily  frame, 
and  partly  to  the  envy  of  ray  spiritual  enemy,  who  wants 
to  persuade  me  that  Christ  has  no  love  for  me,  and  that 
T  have  been  a  self-deceiver." 

"And  do  you  give  way  to  his  suggestions?     Can  you 


THE   daieyman's   daughtek.  73 

doubt  amidst  sucli  numerous  tokens  of  past  and  present 
mercy  ?  " 

"1^0,  Sir,  I  mostly  am  enabled  to  preserve  a  clear 
evidence  of  his  love.  I  do  not  wish  to  add  to  my  other 
sins  that  of  denying  his  manifest  goodness  to  my  soul.  I 
would  acknowledge  it  to  his  praise  and  glory." 

"  What  is  your  present  view  of  the  state  in  which  you 
were,  before  you  felt  seriously  concerned  about  the  salva- 
tion of  your  soul  ? 

^'Sir,  I  was  a  proud,  thoughtless  girl,  fond  of  dress 
and  finery ;  I  loved  the  world  and  the  things  that  are  in 
the  world ;  I  lived  in  service  among  worldly  people,  and 
never  had  the  happiness  of  being  in  a  family  where 
worship  was  regarded,  and  the  souls  of  the  servants 
cared  for  either  by  master  or  mistress.  I  went  once  on 
a  Sunday  to  church,  more  to  see  and  be  seen,  than  to 
pray  or  hear  the  Word  of  God.  I  thought  I  was  quite 
good  enough  to  be  saved,  and  disliked  and  often  laughed 
at  religious  people.  I  was  in  great  darkness ;  I  knew 
nothing  of  the  way  of  salvation;  I  never  prayed,  nor 
was  sensible  of  the  awful  danger  of  a  prayerless  state.  I 
wished  to  maintain  the  character  of  a  good  servant,  and 
was  much  lifted  up  whenever  I  met  with  applause.  I 
was  tolerably  moral  and  decent  in  my  conduct,  from 
motives  of  carnal  and  worldly  policy;  but  I  was  a 
stranger  to  God  and  Christ ;  I  neglected  my  soul ;  and 
had  I  died  in  such  a  state,  hell  must,  and  would  justly, 
have  been  my  portion." 

"  How  long  is  it  since  you  heard  the  sermon  which 
you  hope,  through  God's  blessing,  effected  your  conver- 
sion?" 

"  About  five  years  ago." 

"  How  was  it  brought  about  ?  " 

''  It  was  reported  that  a  Mr. ,  who  was  detained 

by  contrary  winds  from   embarking   on  board  ship  as 

chaplain  to  a  distant  part  of  the  world,  was  to  preach  at 

7 


•74  THE   dairyman's  daughter. 

• clmrcli.     Many  advised  me  not  to  go,  for  fear  lie 

should  turn  my  head;  as  tliey  said  lie  lield  strange 
notions.  But  curiosity,  and  an  opportunity  of  appearing 
in  a  new  gown,  whicli  I  was  very  proud  of,  induced  me 
to  ask  leave  of  my  mistress  to  go.  Indeed,  Sir,  I  had  no 
better  motives  than  vanity  and  curiosity.  Yet  thus  it 
pleased  the  Lord  to  order  it  for  his  own  glory. 

"  I  accordingly  went  to  church,  and  saw  a  great  crowd 
of  people  collected  together.  I  often  think  of  the  con- 
trary states  of  my  mind  during  the  former  and  latter 
part  of  the  service.  For  a  while,  regardless  of  the 
worship  of  God,  I  looked  around  me,  and  was  anxious 
to  attract  notice  myself.  My  dress,  like  that  of  too  many 
gay,  vain,  and  silly  servant  girls,  was  much  above  my 
station,  and  very  different  from  that  which  becomes  an 
humble  sinner,  who  has  a  modest  sense  of  propriety  and 
decency.  The  state  of  my  mind  was  visible  enough 
from  the  foolish  finery  of  my  apparel. 

"  At  length,  the  clergyman  gave  out  his  text :  '  Be  ye 
clothed  with  humility.'  He  drew  a  comparison  between 
the  clothing  of  the  body  with  that  of  the  soul.  At  a 
very  early  part  of  his  discourse,  I  began  to  feel  ashamed 
of  my  passion  for  fine  dressing  and  apparel :  but  when 
he  came  to  describe  the  garment  of  salvation  with  which 
a  Christian  is  clothed,  I  felt  a  powerful  discovery  of  the 
nakedness  of  my  own  soul.  I  saw.  that  I  had  neither 
the  humility  mentioned  in  the  text,  nor  any  one  part  of 
the  true  Christian  character.  I  looked  at  my  gay  dress, 
and  blushed  for  shame  on  account  of  my  pride.  I  looked 
at  the  minister,  and  he  seemed  to  be  as  a  messenger  sent 
from  heaven  to  open  my  eyes.  I  looked  at  the  congre- 
gation, and  wondered  whether  any  one  else  felt  as  I  did. 
I  looked  at  my  heart,  and  it  appeared  full  of  iniquity.  I 
trembled  as  I  spoke,  and  yet  I  felt  a  great  drawing  of 
heart  to  the  words  he  uttered. 

•■'  He  opened  the  riches  of  divine  grace  in  God's  method 


THE    dairyman's   daughtee.  75 

of  saving  the  sinner.  I  was  astonished  at  what  I  had 
been  doing  all  the  days  of  my  life.  He  described  the 
meek,  lowly,  and  humble  example  of  Christ;  I  felt  proud, 
lofty,  vain,  and  self-consequential.  He  represented  Christ 
as  '  Wisdom ; '  I  felt  my  ignorance.  He  held  him  forth 
as- '  Eighteousness ; '  I  was  convinced  of  my  own  guilt. 
He  proved  him  to  be  '  Sanctification ; '  I  saw  my  corrup- 
tion. He  proclaimed  him  as  'Redemption;'  I  felt  my 
slavery  to  sin,  and  my  captivity  to  Satan.  He  concluded 
with  an  animated  address  to  sinners,  in  which  he  ex- 
horted them  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  to  cast  off 
the  love  of  outward  ornaments,  to  put  on  Jesus  Christ, 
and  be  clothed  with  true  humility. 

"  From  that  hour  I  never  lost  sight  of  the  value  of  my 
soul  and  the  danger  of  a  sinful  state.  I  inwardly  blessed 
God  for  the  sermon,  although  my  mind  was  in  a  state  of 
great  confusion. 

"  The  preacher  had  brought  forward  the  ruling  passion 
of  my  heart,  which  was  pride  in  outward  dress ;  and  by 
the  grace  of  God  it  was  made  instrumental  to  the  awaken- 
ing of  my  soul.  Happy,  Sir,  would  it  be,  if  many  a  poor 
girl,  like  myself,  were  turned  from  the  love  of  outward 
adorning  and  putting  on  of  fine  apparel,  to  seek  that 
which  is  not  corruptible,  even  the  ornament  of  a  meek 
and  quiet  spirit,  which  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great 
price. 

"  The  greater  part  of  the  congregation,  unused  to  such 
faithful  and  scriptural  sermons,  disliked  and  complained 
of  the  severity  of  the  preacher :  while  a  few,  as  I  after- 
wards found,  like  myself,  were  deeply  affected,  and 
earnestly  wished  to  hear  him  again.  But  he  preached 
there  no  more. 

"  From  that  time  I  was  led,  through  a  course  of  private 
prayer,  reading,  and  meditation,  to  see  my  lost  estate  as 
a  sinner,  and  the  great  mercy  of  God  through  Jesus 
Christ  in  raising  sinful  dust  and  ashes  to  a  share  in  the 


76  THE   dairyman's   daughtee. 

glorious  happiness  of  heaven.  And,  O  Sir!  what  a 
Saviour  I  have  found !  He  is  more  than  I  could  ask  or 
desire.  In  his  fulness  I  have  found  all  that  my  poverty 
could  need ;  in  his  bosom  I  have  found  a  resting-place 
from  all  sin  and  sorrow ;  in  his  word  I  have  found 
strength  against  doubt  and  unbelief." 

"  Were  you  not  soon  convinced,"  I  said,  "  that  your 
salvation  must  be  an  act  of  entire  grace  on  the  part  of 
God,  wholly  independent  of  your  own  previous  works 
or  deservings  ?  " 

"  Dear  Sir,  what  were  my  works  before  I  heard  that 
sermon,  but  evil,  carnal,  selfish,  and  ungodly?  The 
thoughts  of  my  heart,  from  my  youth  upward,  were  only 
evil  and  that  continually.  And  my  deservings,  what 
were  they,  but  the  deservings  of  a  fallen,  depraved,  care- 
less soul,  that  regarded  neither  law  nor  gospel?  Yes, 
Sir,  I  immediately  saw  that  if  ever  I  were  saved,  it  must 
be  by  the  free  mercy  of  God,  and  that  the  whole  praise 
and  honour  of  the  work  would  be  his  from  first  to  last." 
''What  change  did  you  perceive  in  yourself  with 
respect  to  the  world  ?  " 

''  It  appeared  all  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit.  I 
found  it  necessary  to  my  peace  of  mind  to  come  out  from 
among  them  and  be  separate.  I  gave  myself  to  prayer ; 
and  many  a  happy  hour  of  secret  delight  I  enjoyed  in 
communion  with  God.  Often  I  mourned  over  my  sins, 
and  sometimes  had  a  great  conflict  through  unbelief, 
fear,  temptation  to  return  back  again  to  my  old  ways, 
and  a  variety  of  difficulties  which  lay  in  my  way.  But 
He  who  loved  me  with  an  everlasting  love,  drew  me  by 
his  loving  kindness,  showed  me  the  way  of  peace, 
gradually  strengthened  me  in  my  resohitions  of  leading 
a  new  life,  and  taught  me,  that  while  without  him  I 
could  do  nothing,  I  yet  might  do  all  things  through  his 
strength." 


THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  77 

''  Did  yon  not  find  many  difficulties  in  your  situation, 
owing  to  your  claange  of  principle  and  practice  ?  " 

'  YeS;  Sir,  every  day  of  my  life.  I  was  laughed  at  by 
some,  scolded  at  by  others,  scorned  by  enemies,  and 
pitied  by  friends.  I  was  called  hypocrite,  saint,  false 
deceiver,  and  many  more  names  which  were  meant  to 
render  me  hateful  in  the  sight  of  the  world.  But  I 
esteemed  the  reproach  of  the  cross  an  honour.  I  forgave 
and  prayed  for  my  persecutors,  and  remembered  how 
very  lately  I  had  acted  the  same  part  towards  others 
myself.  I  thought  also  that  Christ  endured  the  contra- 
diction of  sinners ;  and,  as  the  disciple  is  not  above  the 
Master,  I  was  glad  to  be  in  any  way  conformed  to  his 
sufferings." 

''  Did  you  not  then  feel  for  your  family  at  home  ?  " 

'^  Yes,  that  I  did  indeed.  Sir ;  they  were  never  out  of 
my  thoughts.  I  prayed  continually  for  them,  and  had  a 
longing  desire  to  do  them  good.  In  particular  I  felt  for 
my  father  and  mother,  as  they  were  getting  into  years, 
and  were  very  ignorant  and  dark  in  matters  of  religion." 
■  ^^Aye,"  interrupted  her  mother,  sobbing,  "ignorant 
and  dark,  sinful  and  miserable  we  were,  till  this  dear 
Betsy  —  this  dear  Betsy — this  dear  child.  Sir,  brought 
Christ  Jesus  home  to  her  poor .  father  and  mother's 
house." 

"  No,  dearest  mother,  say  rather,  Christ  Jesus  brought 
your  poor  daughter  home,  to  tell  you  what  he  had  done 
for  her  soul,  and,  I  hope,  to  do  the  same  for  yours." 

At  this  moment  the  Dairyman  came  in  with  two  pails 
of  milk  hanging  from  the  yoke  on  his  shoulders.  He 
had  stood  behind  the  half-opened  door  for  a  feAV  minutes, 
and  heard  the  last  sentences  spoken  by  his  wife  and 
daughter. 

" Blessing  and  mercy  upon  her ! "  said  he,  "it  is  very 
true ;  she  left  a  good  place  of  service  on  purpose  to  live 
with  us,  that  she  might  help  us  both  in  soul  and  body. 


78  THE     DAI  KY  man's     DAUGHTEE. 

Sir,  don't  she  look  very  ill?  I  think,  Sir,  we  shan't 
have  her  here  long." 

'^ Leave  that  to  the  Lord,"  said  Elizabeth.  ''All  our 
times  are  in  his  hand,  and  happy  it  is  that  they  are.  I 
am  willing  to  go ;  are  you  not  willing,  my  father,  to 
part  with  me  into  his  hands,  who  gave  me  to  you  at 
first?" 

"Ask  me  any  question  in  the  world  but  that,"  said 
the  weeping  father. 

''I  know,"  said  she,  "you  wish  me  to  be  happy." 

"I  do,  I  do,"  answered  he:  "let  the  Lord  do  with  you 
and  us  as  best  pleases  him." 

I  then  asked  her,  on  what  her  present  consolations 
chiefly  depended,  in  the  prospect  of  approaching  death. 

"Entirely,  Sir,  on  my  view  of  Christ.  When  I  look 
at  myself,  many  sins,  infirmities,  and  imperfections  cloud, 
the  image  of  Christ  which  I  want  to  see  in  my  own 
heart.  But  when  I  look  at  the  Saviour  himself,  he  is 
altogether  lovely;  there  is  not  one  spot  in  his  counte- 
nance, nor  one  cloud  over  all  his  perfections. 

"  I  think  of  his  coming  in  the  flesh,  and  it  reconciles 
me  to  the  sufferings  of  the  body ;  for  he  had  them  as 
well  as  I.  I  think  of  his  temptations,  and  believe  that 
he  is  able  to  succour  _me  when  I  am  tempted.  Then  I 
think  of  his  cross,  and  learn  to  bear  my  own.  I  reflect 
on  his  death,  and  long  to  die  unto  sin,  so  that  it  may  no 
longer  have  dominion  over  me.  I  sometimes  think  on 
his  resurrection,  and  trust  that  he  has  given  me  a  part 
in  it,  for  I  feel  that  my  affections  are  set  upon  things 
above.  Chiefly  I  take  comfort  in  thinking  of  him  as  at 
the  right  hand  of  the  Father,  pleading  my  cause,  and 
rendering  acceptable  even  my  feeble  prayers,  both  for 
myself,  and,  as  T  hope,  for  my  dear  friends. 

"  These  are  the  views  which,  through  mercy,  I  have 
of  my  Saviour's  goodness ;  and  they  have  made  me  wish 
and  strive  in  my  poor  way  to  serve  him,  to  give  myself 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  79 

tip  to  him,  and  to  labour  to  do  my  duty  in  that  state  of 
life  into  which  it  has  pleased  him  to  call  me. 

"  A  thousand  times  I  should  have  fallen  and  fainted, 
if  he  had  not  upheld  me.  I  feel  that  I  am  nothing  with- 
out him.     He  is  all  in  aM. 

''Just  so  far  as  I  can  cast  my  oiire  upon  him,  I  find 
strength  to  do  his  will.  May  he  give  me  grace  to  trust 
him  till  the  last  moment !  I  do  not  fear  death,  because 
I  believe  that  he  has  taken  away  its  sting.  And  0 ! 
what  happiness  beyond!  —  Tell  me.  Sir,  whether  you 
think  I  am  right.  I  hope  I  am  under  no  delusion.  I 
dare  not  look  for  my  hope  in  any  thing  short  of  the 
entire  fulness  of  Christ.  When  I  ask  my  own  heart  a 
question,  I  am  afraid  to  trust  it,  for  it  is  treacherous, 
and  has  often  deceived  me.  But  when  I  ask  Christ,  he 
answers  me  with  promises  that  strengthen  and  refresh 
me,  and  leave  me  no  room  to  doubt  his  power  and  will 
to  save.  I  am  in  his  hands,  and  would  remain  there ; 
and  I  do  believe  that  he  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  me, 
but  will  perfect  the  thing  that  concerns  me.  He  loved 
me  and  gave  himself  for  me,  and  I  believe  that  his  gifts 
and  callings  are  without  repentance.  In  this  hope  I  live, 
in  this  hope  I  wish  to  die." 

I  looked  around  me,  as  she  was  speaking,  and  thought, ' 
''  Surely  this  is  none  other  than  the  house  of  God,  and 
the  gate  of  heaven."  Every  thing  appeared  neat,  cleanly, 
and  interesting.  The  afternoon  had  been  rather  overcast 
with  dark  clouds;  but  just  now  the  setting  sun  shone 
brightly  and  somewhat  suddenly  into  the  room.  It  was 
reflected  from  three  or  four  rows  of  bright  pewter  plates 
and  white  earthen-ware,  arranged  on  shelves  against  the 
wall ;  it  also  gave  brilliancy  to  a  few  prints  of  sacred 
subjects  that  hung  there  also,  and  served  for  monitors  of 
the  birth,  baptism,  crucifixion,  and  resurrection  of  Christ. 

A  large  map  of  Jerusalem,  and  an  hieroglyphic  of 
''the  old  and  new  man,"  completed  the  decorations  oa 


80  THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTEE. 

that  side  of  tlie  room.  Clean  as  was  tlie  wMte washed 
wall,  it  was  not  cleaner  than  the  rest  of  the  place  and  its 
furniture.  Seldom  had  the  sun  enlightened  a  house, 
where  order  and  general  neatness  (those  sure  attendants 
of  pious  poverty)  were  more  conspicuous. 

The  gleam  of  settimg  sunshine  was  emblematical  of  the 
bright  and  serene  close  of  this  young  Christian's  depart- 
ing season.  One  ray  happened  to  be  reflected  from  a 
little  looking-glass  upon  her  face.  Amidst  her  pallid 
and  decaying  features  there  appeared  a  calm  resignation, 
triumphant  confidence,  unaffected  humility,  and  tender 
anxiety,  which  fully  declared  the  feelings  of  her  heart. 

Some  further  affectionate  conversation,  and  a  short 
prayer,  closed  this  interview. 

As  I  rode  home  by  dejTarting  daylight,  a  solemn  tran- 
quillity reigned  throughout  the  scene.  The  gentle  lowing 
of  cattle,  the  bleating  of  sheep  just  penned  in  their  folds, 
the  humming  of  the  insects  of  the  night,  the  distant 
murmurs  of  the  sea,  the  last  notes  of  the  birds  of  day, 
and  the  first  warblings  of  the  nightingale,  broke  upon 
the  ear,  and  served  rather  to  increase  than  lessen  the 
peaceful  serenity  of  the  evening  and  its  corresponding 
effects  on  my  own  mind.  It  invited  and  cherished  just 
such  meditations  as  my  visit  had  already  inspired. 
Natural  scenery,  when  viewed  in  a  Christian  mirror, 
frequently  affords  very  beautiful  illustrations  of  divine 
truths.  We  are  highly  favoured,  when  we  can  enjoy 
them,  and  at  the  same  time  draw  near  to  God  in  them. 


THE   dairyman's   daughter.  81 


PAET    YII. 

•  It  is  a  pleasing  consideration,  that,  amidst  tlie  spiritual 
darkness  which  unhappily  prevails  in  many  parts  of  the 
land,  God  nevertheless  has  a  people.  It  not  unfreqiiently 
happens  that  single  individuals  are  to  be  found,  who, 
though  very  disadvantageously  situated  with  regard  to 
the  ordinary  means  of  grace,  have  received  truly  saving 
impressions,  and  through  a  blessing  on  secret  meditation, 
reading,  and  prayer,  are  led  to  the  closest  communion 
with  God,  and  become  eminently  devoted  Christians.  It 
is  the  no  small  error  of  too  many  professors  of  the 
present  day,  to  overlook  or  undervalue  the  instances  of 
this  kind  which  exist.  The  religious  profession  and 
opinions  of  some  have  too  much  of  mere  machinery  in 
their  composition.  If  every  wheel,  pivot,  chain,  spring, 
cog,  or  pinion,  be  not  exactly  in  its  place,  or  move  not 
precisely  according  to  a  favourite  and  prescribed  system, 
the  whole  is  rejected  as  unworthy  of  regard.  But 
happily  "  the  Lord  knoweth  them  that  are  his ; "  nor  is 
the  impression  of  his  own  seal  wanting  to  characterize 
some,  who,  in  comparative  seclusion  from,  the  religious 
world,  '^name  the  name  of  Christ,  and  depart  from 
iniquity." 

There  are  some  real  Christians  so  peculiarly  circum- 
stanced in  this  respect,  as  to  illustrate  the  Poet's  beauti- 
ful comparison, 

"  Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene 

The  dark  unfathora'd  caves  of  ocean  bear ; 

Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 

And  waste  its  sweetness  in  the  desert  air." 

Yet  this  was  not  altogether  the  case  with  the  Dairy- 
man's daughter.  Her  religion  had  indeed  ripened  in 
seclusion  from  the  world,  and  she  was  intimately  known 


82  THE   dairyman's   daughter. 

but  to  few ;  but  slie  lived  usefully,  departed  most  bappily, 
and  left  a  shining  track  behind  ber.  While  I  attempt  a 
faint  delineation  of  it,  may  I  catch  its  influence,  and 
become,  through  inexpressible  mercy,  a  follower  of 
'^them,  who  through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the 
promises ! " 

From  the  time  wherein  I  visited  her,  as  described  in 
my  last  paper,  I  considered  her  end  as  fast  approaching. 
One  day  I  received  a  hasty  summons  to  inform  me  that 
she  was  dying.  It  was  brought  by  a  soldier,  whose 
countenance  bespoke  seriousness,  good  sense,  and  piety. 

''  I  am  sent.  Sir,  by  the  father  and  mother  of  Elizabeth 

W ,  at  her  own  particular  request,  to  say,  how  much 

they  all  wish  to  see  you.  She  is  going  home,  Sir,  very 
fast  indeed." 

"  Have  you  known  her  long  ?  "  I  replied. 

"  About  a  month.  Sir ;  I  love  to  visit  the  sick ;  and 
hearing  of  her  case  from  a  person  who  lives  close  by  our 
camp,  I  went  to  see  her.  I  bless  God  that  ever  I  did  go. 
Her  conversation  has  been  very  profitable  to  me." 

"I  rejoice,"  said  I,  "to  see  in  you,  as  I  trust,  a  brother 
soldier.  Though  we  differ  in  our  outward  regimentals,  I 
hope  we  serve  under  the  same  spiritual  Captain.  I  will 
go  with  you." 

My  horse  was  soon  ready.  ^J  military  companion 
walked  by  my  side,  and  gratified  me  with  very  sensible 
and  pious  conversation.  He  related  some  remarkable 
testimonies  of  the  excellent  disposition  of  the  Dairyman's 
daughter,  as  they  appeared  from  recent  intercourse  which 
he  had  had  with  her. 

"  She  is  a  bright  diamond.  Sir,"  said  the  soldier,  "  and 
will  soon  shine  brighter  than  any  diamond  upon  earth." 

We  passed  through  lanes  and  fields,  over  hills  and 
valleys,  by  open  and  retired  paths,  sometimes  crossing 
over,  and  sometimes  following  the  windings  of  a  little 
brook,  which  gently  murmured  by  the  road-side.     Con- 


THE     DAIRYMAN'S    DAUGHTEE.  83 

versation  beguiled  the  distance,  and  shortened  the  appa- 
rent time  of  our  journey,  till  we  were  nearly  arrived  at 
the  Dairyman's  cottage. 

As  we  approached  it,  we  became  silent.  Thoughts  of 
death,  eternity,  and  salvation,  inspired  by  the  sight  of  a 
house  where  a  dying  believer  lay,  filled  my  own  mind, 
and,  I  doubt  not,  that  of  my  companion  also. 

Ko  living  object  yet  appeared,  except  the  Dairyman's 
dog,  keeping  a  kind  of  mute  watch  at  the  door ;  for  he 
did  not,  as  formerly,  bark  at  my  approach.  He  seemed 
to  partake  so  far  of  the  feelings  appropriate  to  the  circum- 
stances of  the  family,  as  not  to  wish  to  give  a  hasty  or 
painful  alarm.  He  came  forward  to  the  little  wicket- 
gate,  then  looked  back  at  the  house-door,  as  if  conscious 
there  was  sorrow  within.  It  was  as  if  he  wanted  to  say, 
''tread  softly  over  the  threshold,  as  you  enter  the  house 
of  mourning ;  for  my  master's  heart  is  full  of  grief." 

The  soldier  took  my  horse  and  tied  it  up  in  a  shed. 
A  solemn  serenity  appeared  to  surround  the  whole  place : 
it  was  only  interrupted  by  the  breezes  passing  through 
the  large  elm-trees,  which  stood  near  the  house,  and 
which  my  imagination  indulged  itself  in  thinking  were 
plaintive  sighs  of  sorrow.  I  gently  opened  the  door  ;  no 
one  appeared,  and  all  was  still  silent.  The  soldier  fol- 
lowed ;  we  came  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs. 

''  They  are  come,"  said  a  voice,  which  1  knew  to  be 
the  father's ;  ''  they  are  come." 

He  appeared  at  the  top ;  I  gave  him  my  hand  and  said 
nothing.  On  entering  the  room  above,  I  saw  the  aged 
mother  and  her  son  supporting  the  much-loved  daughter 
and  sister :  the  son's  wife  sat  weeping  in  a  window-seat, 
with  a  child  on  her  lap ;  two  or  three  persons  attended 
in  the  room  to  discharge  any  office  which  friendship  or 
necessity  might  require. 

I  sat  down  by  the  bed-side.  The  mother  could  not 
weep,  but  now  and  then  sighed  deeply,  as  she  alternately 


84:  THE    DAIKYMANS    DAUGHTEB. 

looked  at  Elizabetli  and  at  me.  The  big  tear  rolled 
dowD  the  brother's  cheek,  and  testified  an  affectionate 
regard.  The  good  old  man  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
leaning  upon  the  post,  and  unable  to  take  his  eyes  off  the 
child  from  whom  he  was  so  soon  to  part. 

Elizabeth's  eyes  were  closed,  and  as  yet  she  perceived 
me  not.  But  over  the  face,  though  pale,  sunk,  and 
hollow,  the  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understand- 
ing, had  cast  a  triumphant  calm. 

The  soldier,  after  a  short  pause,  silently  reached  out 
his  Bible,  towards  me,  pointing  with  his  finger  at  1  Cor. 
XV.  55,  56,  58.  I  then  broke  silence  by  reading  the 
passage,  ''  0  death,  where  is  thy  sting  ?  0  gTave,  where 
is  thy  victory?  The  sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  the 
strength  of  sin  is  the  law.  But  thanks  be  to  God,  which 
giveth  us  the  victory  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

At  the  sound  of  these  words  her  eyes  opened,  and 
something  like  a  ray  of  divine  light  beamed  on  her  coun- 
tenance, as  she  said,  "  Victory,  victory !  through  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ." 

She  relapsed  again,  taking  no  further  notice  of  any 
one  present. 

"  God  be  praised  for  the  triumph  of  faith ! "  said  I. 

"Amen,"  replied  the  soldier. 

The  Dairyman's  uplifted  eye  showed  that  the  Amen 
was  in  his  heart,  though  his  tongue  failed  to  utter  it. 

A  short  struggling  for  breath  took  place  in  the  dying 
young  woman,  which  was  soon  over ;  and  then  I  said  to 
her, 

"My  dear  friend,  do  you  not  feel  that  you  are  sup- 
ported?" 

"  The  Lord  deals  very  gently  with  me,"  she  replied. 

"  Are  not  his  promises  now  very  precious  to  you  ?  " 

"  They  are  all  yea  and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus." 

"  Are  you  in  much  bodily  pain  ?  " 

"So  little,  that  I  almost  forget  it." 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  ^5 

'■*  How  good  tlie  Lord  is  I " 

"  And  how  unwortliy  am  I ! " 

"  You  are  going  to  see  Hm  as  lie  is." 

''I  think 1  hope 1  believe  that  I  am." 

She  again  fell  into  a  short  slumber. 

Looking  at  her  mother,  I  said,  "What  a  mercy  to 
have  a  child  so  near  heaven  as  yours  is  1 " 

"And  what  a  mercy/'  she  replied,  in  broken  accents, 
"  if  her  poor  old  mother  might  but  follow  her  there ! 
But,  Sir,  it  is  so  hard  to  part ! " 

"  I  hojip  through  grace  by  faith  you  will  soon  meet,  to 
part  no  more :  it  will  be  but  a  little  while." 

"Sir,"  said  the  Dairyman  "that  thought  supports  me, 
and  the  Lord's  goodness  makes  me  feel  more  reconciled 
than  I  was." 

"Father mother" said  the  reviving  daughter, 

"he  is  good  to  me trust  him,  praise  him  evermore." 

"Sir,"  added  she  in  a  faint  voice,  "I  want  to  thank 
you  for  your  kindness    to   me-^^ — I   want   to   ask   a 

favour; you  buried  my  sister will  you  do  the 

same  for  me  ?  " 

"All  shall  be  as  you  wish,  if  God  permit,"  I  replied. 

"Thank  you.   Sir,  thank    you; 1  have    another 

favour  to  ask When  I  am  gone,  remember  my  father 

and  mother.     They  are  old,  but  I  hope  the  good  work  is 

begun  in  their  souls My  prayers  are  heard Pray, 

come  and  see  them 1  cannot  speak  much,  but  I  want 

to  speak  for  their  sakes Sir,  remember  them."  — 

The  aged  parents  now  sighed  and  sobbed  aloud,  utter- 
ing broken  sentences,  and  gained  some  relief  by  such  an 
expression  of  their  feelings. 

At  length  I  said  to  Elizabeth,  "Do  you  experience 
any  doubts  or  temptations  on  the  subject  of  your  eternal 
safety?" 

"No,  Sir;  the  Lord  deals  very  gently  with  me,  and 
gives  me  peace." 


86  THE   dairyman's   daughter. 

What  are  your  views  of  the  dark  valley  of  death, 
now  that  you  are  passing  through  it  ?  " 
''It  is  710^  dark." 
''Why  so?" 

"  My  Lord  is  there,  and  he  is  my  light  and  my  salva- 
tion." 

"  Have  you  any  fears  of  more  bodily  suffering.?  " 
"  The  Lord  deals  so  gently  with  me ;  I  can  tKist  him." 
Something  of  a  convulsion  came  on.     When  it  was 
past,  she  said  again  and  again, 

"  The  Lord  deals  very  gently  with  me.     Lord,  I  am 

thine,  save  me Blessed  Jesus precious  Saviour 

His  blood   cleanseth   from  all  sin Who  shall 

separate? His  name   is  Wonderful Thanks  be 

to  God He  giveth  us  the  victory 1,  even  I,  am 

saved 0  grace,  mercy,  and  wonder — Lord,  receive 

my  spirit ! Dear  Sir, dear  father,  mother,  friends, 

I  am  going but  all  is  well,  well,  well-^ ." 

She  relapsed  again  —  We  knelt  down  to  prayer — The 
Lord  was  in  the  midst  of  us,  and  blessed  us. 

She  did  not  again  revive  while  I  remained,  nor  ever 
speak  any  more  words  which  could  be  understood.  She 
slumbered  for  about  ten  hours,  and  at  last  sweetly  fell 
asleep  in  the  arms  of  that  Lord,  who  had  dealt  so  gently 
with  her. 

I  left  the  house  an  hour  after  she  had  ceased  to  speak. 
I  pressed  her  hand  as  I  was  taking  leave,  and  said, 
"  Christ  is  the  resurrection  and  the  life."  She  gently 
returned  the  pressure,  but  could  neither  open  her  eyes, 
nor  utter  a  reply. 

I  never  had  witnessed  a  scene  so  impressive  as  this 
before.  It  completely  filled  my  imagination  as  I  returned 
home. 

"Farewell,"  thought  I,  "dear  friend,  till  the  morning 
of  an  eternal  day  shall  renew  our  personal  intercourse. 
Thou  wast  a  brand  plucked  from  the  burning,  that  thou 


THE    DAIEY  man's    DAUGHTEE.  87 

mig^htest  become  a  star  shining  in  the  firmament  of  glory. 
I  have  seen  thy  light  and  thy  good  works,  and  will  there- 
fore glorify  our  Father  which  is  in  heaven.  I  have  seen, 
in  thy  example,  what  it  is  to  be  a  sinner  freely  saved  by 
grace.  I  have  learned  from  thee,  as  in  a  living  mirror, 
who  it  is  that  begins,  continues,  and  ends  the  work  of 
faith  and  love.  Jesus  is  all  in  all :  he  will  and  shall  be 
glorified.  He  won  the  crown,  and  alone  deserves  to  wear 
it.  May  no  one  attempt  to  rob  him  of  his  glory !  He 
saves,  and  saves  to  the  uttermost.  Farewell,  dear  sister 
in  the  Lord.  Thy  flesh  and  thy  heart  may  fail ;  but  God 
is  the  strength  of  thy  heart,  and  shall  be  thy  portion  for 


PAET    YIII. 

"Who  can  conceive  or  estimate  the  nature  of  that 
change  which  the  soul  of  a  believer  must  experience  at 
the  moment  when,  quitting  its  tabernacle  of  clay,  it  sud- 
denly enters  into  the  presence  of  God  ?  If,  even  while 
"we  see  through  a  glass  darkly,"  the  views  of  divine 
love  and  wisdom  are  so  delightful  to  the  eye  of  faith ; 
what  must  be  the  glorious  vision  of  God,  when  seen  face 
to  face  ?  If  it  be  so  valued  a  privilege  here  on  earth  to 
enjoy  the  communion  of  saints,  and  to  take  sweet  counsel 
together  with  our  fellow-travellers  towards  the  heavenly 
kingdom ;  what  shall  we  see  and  know  when  we  finally 
"  come  unto  Mount  Zion,  and  unto  the  city  of  the  living 
God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  an  innumerable 
company  of  angels,  to  the  general  assembly  and  church 
of  the  first-born  which  are  written  in  heaven,  and  to  God 
the  Judge  of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  ju«t  men  made 
perfect,  and  to  Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant?  " 

If,  during  the  sighs  and  tears  of  a  mortal  pilgrimage, 


88  THE   daikyman's  daughter. 

the  consolations  of  the  Spirit  are  so  preciouS;  and  the 
hope  full  of  immortality  is  so  animating  to  the  soul; 
what  heart  can  conceive,  or  wliat  tongue  utter  its  superior 
joys,  when  arrived  at  that  state,  where  sighing  and 
sorrow  flee  away,  and  the  tears  shall  be  wiped  from  every 
eye? 

Such,  ideas  were  powerfully  associated  together  in  my 
imagination,  as  I  travelled  onward  to  the  house,  where, 
in  solemn  preparation  for  the  grave,  lay  the  remains  of 
the  Dairyman's  daughter. 

She  had  breathed  her  last  shortly  after  the  visit  related 
in  my  former  account.  Permission  was  obtained,  as 
before  in  the  case  of  her  sister,  that  I  should  perform  the 
funeral  service.  Many  pleasing  yet  melancholy  thoughts 
were  connected  with  the  fulfilment  of  this  task.  I 
retraced  the  numerous  and  important  conversations 
which  I  had  held  with  her.  But  these  could  now  no 
longer  be  maintained  on  earth.  I  reflected  on  the  inte- 
resting and  improving  nature  of  Christian  friendships, 
whether  formed  in  palaces  or  in  cottages ;  and  felt  thank- 
ful that  I  had  so  long  enjoyed  that  privilege  with  the 
subject  of  this  memorial.  I  then  indulged  a  selfish  sigh 
for  a  moment,  on  thinking  that  I  could  no  longer  hear . 
the  great  truths  of  Christianity  uttered  by  one  who  had 
drunk  so  deep  of  the  waters  of  the  river  of  life.  But  the 
rising  murmur  was  checked  by  the  animating  thought ; 
''She  is  gone  to  eternal  rest  —  could  I  wish  her  back 
again  in  this  vale  of  tears  ?  " 

At  that  moment,  the  first  sound  of  a  tolling  bell  struck 
my  ear.  It  proceeded  from  a  village  church  in  the 
valley  directly  beneath  the  ridge  of  a  high  hill,  over 
which  I  had  taken  my  way. — It  was  Elizabeth's  funeral 
knell. 

The  sound  was  solemn;  and  in  ascending  to  the 
elevated  spot  over  which  I  rode,  it  acquired  a  peculiar 
tone  and  character.    Tolling  at  slow  and  regulated  inter- 


THE     D  A  I  E  Y  M  A  N '  S    D  A  UG  II  T  E  E.  89 

"v  i  ,♦>  (as  was  customary  for  a  considerable  time  previous 
to  tk^e  ho\ir  of  burial,)  the  bell;  as  it  were,  proclaimed 
tbo  blessedness  of  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord,  and  also 
the  necessity  of  the  living  pondering  these  things,  and 
laying  them  to  heart.  It  seemed  to  say,  "Hear  my 
warning  voice,  thou  son  of  man.  There  is  but  a  step 
between  thee  and  death.  Arise,  prepare  thine  house,  for 
thou  shalt  die,  and  not  live." 

The  scenery  was  in  unison  with  that  tranquil  frame 
of  mind  which  is  most  suitable  for  holy  meditation.  A 
rich  and  fruitful  valley  lay  immediately  beneath ;  it  was 
adorned  with  corn-fields  and  pastures,  through  which  a 
small  river  winded  in  a  variety  of  directions,  and  many 
herds  grazed  upon  its  banks.  A  fine  range  of  opposite 
hills,  covered  with  grazing  flocks,  terminated  with  a 
bold  sweep  into  the  ocean,  whose  blue  waves  appeared 
at  a  distance  beyond.  Several  villages,  hamlets,  and 
churches,  were  scattered  in  the  valley.  The  noble  man- 
sions of  the  rich,'  and  the  lowly  cottages  of  the  poor 
added  their  respective  features  to  the  landscape.  The 
air  was  mild  and  the  declining  sun  occasioned  a  beautiful 
interchange  of  light  and  shade  upon  the  sides  of  the 
hills.  In  the  midst  of  this  scene,  the  chief  sound  that 
arrested  attention  was  the  bell  tolling  for  the  funeral  of 
the  Dairyman's  daughter. 

Do   any  of  my  readers   inquire  why  I   describe  so 

minutely  the  circumstances  of  prospect  scenery  which 

may  be  connected  with  the  incidents  I  relate  ?    My  reply 

is,  that  the  God  of  redemption  is  the  God  of  creation 

likewise ;  and  that  we  are  taught  in  every  part  of  the 

Word  of  God  to  unite  the  admiration  of  the  beauties  and 

wonders  of  nature  to  every  other  motive  for  devotion. 

When  "David  considered  the  heavens,  the  work  of  God's 

fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars,  which  he  has  ordained, 

he  was  thereby  led  to  the  deepest  humiliation  of  heart 

before  his  Maker.    And  when  he  viewed  the  sheep  and 

8* 


90  THE     D  A  I  R  Y  M  A  N   S     D  A  U  G  II  T  E  E. 

the  oxen  and  the  beasts  of  the  field,  the  fowl  of  the  air 
and  the  fish  of  the  sea,  he  was  constrained  to  cry  out, 
"0  Lord,  our  Lord!  how  excellent  is  thy  name  in  all  the 
earth!" 

I  am  the  Poor  Man's  Eriend,  and  wish  more  especially 
that  every  poor  labouring  man  should  know  how  to 
connect  the  goodness  of  God  in  creation  and  providence 
with  the  unsearchable  riches  of  his  grace  in  the  salvation 
of  a  sinner.  And  where  can  he  learn  this  lesson  more 
instructively  than  in  looking  around  the  fields  where  his 
labour  is  appointed,  and  there  tracing  the  handy- work 
of  God  in  all  that  he  beholds  ?  Such  meditations  have 
often  afforded  me  both  profit  and  pleasure,  and  I  wish 
my  readers  to  share  them  with  me. 

The  Dairyman's  cottage  was  rather  more  than  a  mile 
distant  from  the  church.  A  lano,  quite  overshaded  with 
trees  and  high  hedges,  led  from  the  foot  of  the  till  to  his 
dwelling.  It  was  impossible  at  that  .time  to  overlook 
the  suitable  gloom  of  such  an  approach  to  the  house  of 
mourniog. 

I  found,  on  my  entrance,  that  several  Christian  friends, 
from  different  parts  of  the  neighbourhood,  had  assembled 
together,  to  pay  their  last  tribute  of  esteem  and  regard 
to  the  memory  of  the  Dairyman's  daughter.  Several  of 
them  had  first  become  acquainted  with  her  during  the 
latter  stage  of  her' illness;  some  few  had  maintained  an 
affectionate  intercourse  with  her  for  a  longer  period. 
But  all  seemed  anxious  to  manifest  their  respect  for  one 
who  was  endeared  to  them  by  such  striking  testimonies 
of  true  Christianity. 

I  was  requested  to  go  into  the  chamber  where  the 
relatives  and  a  few  other  friends  were  gone  to  take  a  last 
look  at  the  remains  of  Elizabeth. 

It  is  not  easy  to  describe  the  sensation  which  the  mind 
experiences  on  the  first  sight  of  a  dead  countenance, 
which,  when  living,  Avas  loved  and  esteemed  for  the  sake 


THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTEE.  91 

of  that  soul  whicli  used  to  give  it  animation.  A  deep 
and  awful  view  of  the  separation  that  has  taken  place 
between  the  soul  and  body  of  the  deceased,  since  we  last 
beheld  them,  occupies  the  feelings ;  our  friend  seems  to 
be  both  near,  and  yet  far  off.  The  most  interesting  and 
valuable  part  is  fled  away;  what  remains  is  but  the 
earthly  perishing  habitation,  no  longer  occupied  by  its 
tenant.  Yet  the  features  present  the  accustomed  associa- 
tion of  friendly  intercourse.  For  one  moment,  we  could 
think  them  asleep.  The  next  reminds  us  that  the  blood 
circulates  no  more ;  the  eye  has  lost  its  power  of  seeing, 
the  ear  of  hearing,  the  heart  of  throbbing,  and  the  limbs 
of  moving.  Quickly,  a  thought  of  glory  breaks  in  upon 
the  mind,  and  we  imagine  the  dear  departed  soul  to  be 
arrived  at  its  long-wished-for  rest.  It  is  surrounded  by 
cherubim  and  seraphim,  and  sings  the  song  of  Moses  and 
the  Lamb  on  Mount  Zion.  Amid  the  solemn  stillness 
of  the  chamber  of  death,  imagination  hears  heavenly 
hymns  chanted  by  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect. 
In  another  moment,  the  livid  lips  and  sunken  eye  of  the 
clay-cold  corpse  recall  our  thoughts  to  earth,  and  to  our- 
selves again.  And  while  we  think  of  mortality,  sin, 
death,  and  the  grave,  we  feel  the  prayer  rise  in  our 
bosom,  •'  O  let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  let 
my  last  end  be  like  his ! " 

If  there  be  a  moment  when  Christ  and  salvation, 
death,  judgment,  heaven,  and  hell,  appear  more  than 
ever  to  be  momentous  subjects  of  meditation,  it  is  that 
which  brings  us  to  the  side  of  a  coffin  containing  the 
body  of  a  departed  believer. 

Elizabeth's  features  were  altered,  but  much  of  her 
likeness  remained.  Her  father  and  mother  sat  at  the 
head,  her  brother  at  the  foot  of  the  coffin.  The  father 
silently  and  alternately  looked  upon  his  dead  child,  and 
then  lifted  up  his  eyes  to  heaven.  A  struggle  for  resig- 
nation to  the  will  of  God  was  manifest  in  his  counte- 


92  THE  dairyman's  daughter 

nance ;  while  the  tears  rolling  down  his  aged  cheeks,  at 
the  same  time  declared  his  grief  and  affection.  The 
poor  mother  cried  and  sobbed  aloud,  and  appeared  to  be 
much  overcame,  by  the  shock  of  separation  from  a 
daughter  so  justly  dear  to  her.  The  weakness  and 
infirmity  of  old  age  added  a  character  to  her  sorrow, 
which  called  for  much  tenderness  and  compassion. 

A  remarkably  decent  looking  woman,  who  had  the 
management  of  the  few  simple  though  solemn  ceremonies 
which  the  case  required,  advanced  towards  me,  saying, 

"  Sir,  this  is  rather  a  sight  of  joy  than  of  sorrow. 
Our  dear  friend  Elizabeth  finds  it  to  be  so,  I  have  no 
doubt.  She  is  beyond  all  sorrow :  do  you  not  think  she 
is,  Sir?" 

"  After  what  I  have  known,  and  seen,  and  heard,"  1 
replied,  ^'I  feel  the  fullest  assurance,  that,  while  her 
body  remains  here,  her  soul  is  with  her  Saviour  in 
Paradise.  She  loved  him  here,  and  there  she  enjoys  the 
pleasures  which  are  at  his  right  hand  for  evermore." 

"Mercy,    mercy   upon    a   poor   old   creature   almost 

broken  down  with  age  and  grief! — What  shall  I  do?" 

—Betsy's  gone.     My  daughter's  dead.  —  0  my  child  I  I 

shall  never  see  thee  more. — God  be  merciful  to  me  a 

sinner ! "  sobbed  out  the  poor  mother. 

"That  last  prayer,  my  dear  good  woman,"  said  I, 
"  will  bring  you  and  your  child  together  again.  It  is  a 
cry  that  has  brought  thousands  to  glory.  It  brought 
your  daughter  there,  and  I  hope  it  will  bring  you  thither 
likewise.  God  will  in  no  wise  cast  out  any  that  come 
to  him. 

"My  dear,"  said  the  Dairyman,  breaking  the  long 
silence  he  had  maintained,  "  let  us  trust  God  with  our 
child  ;  and  let  us  trust  him  with  our  own  selves.  The 
Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  has  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord !     We  are  old,  and  can  have  but  a 


THE   dairyman's  daughtee.  93 

little  farther  to  travel  in  our  journey,  and  tlien "  he 

could  say  no  more. 

The  soldier  mentioned  in  my  last  paper,  reached  a 
Bible  into  my  hand,  and  said,  ''Perhaps,  Sir,  you  would  not 
object  to  reading  a  chapter  before  we  go  to  the  church  ?  " 

I  did  so ;  it  was  the  fourteenth  of  the  book  of  Job;  A 
sweet  tranquillity  prevailed  while  I  read  it.  Each  minute 
that  was  spent  in  this  funeral  chamber  seemed  to  be 
valuable.  I  made  a  few  observations  on  the  chapter, 
and  connected  them  with  the  case  of  our  departed  sister. 

"  I  am  but  a  poor  soldier,"  said  our  military  friend, 
''and  have  nothing  of  this  world's  goods  beyond  my 
daily  subsistence;  but  I  would  not  exchange  my  hope 
of  salvation  in  the  next  world,  for  all  that  this  world 
could  bestow  without  it.  What  is  wealth  without  grace  ? 
Blessed  be  God !  as  I  march  about  from  one  quarters  to 
another,  I  still  find  the  Lord  wherever  I  go ;  and  thanks 
be  to  his  holy  name,  he  is  here  to-day  in  the  midst  of 
this  company  of  the  living  and  the  dead.  I  feel  that  it 
is  good  to  be  here." 

Some  other  persons  present  began  to  take  a  part  m 
our  conversation,  in  the  course  of  which  the  life  and 
experience  of  the  Dairyman's  daughter  were  brought 
forward  in  a  very  interesting  manner.  Each  friend  had 
something  to  relate  in  testimony  of  her  gracious  disposi- 
tion. A  young  woman  under  twenty,  who  had  hitherto 
been  a  very  light  and  trifling  character,  appeared  to  bo 
remarkably  impressed  by  the  conversation  of  that  day ; 
and  I  have  since  had  ground  to  believe  that  divine  grace 
then  began  to  influence  her  in  the  choice  of  that  better 
part,  which  shall  not  be  taken  from  her. 

What  a  contrast  does  such  a  scene  as  this  exhibit, 
when  compared  with  the  dull,  formal,  unedifying,  and 
often  indecent  manner,  in  which  funeral  parties  assemble 
in  the  house  of  death ! 

As  we  conversed,  the  parents  revived.     Our  subject 


94:  THE   dairyman's   daughter. 

of  discourse  was  delig"htful  to  tlieir  hearts.  Their  child 
seemed  almost  to  be  alive  again,  while  we  talked  of  her. 
Tearful  smiles  often  brightened  their  countenances,  as 
they  heard  the  voice  of  friendship  uttering  their  daugh- 
ter's praises;  or  rather  the  praises  of  Him,  who  had 
mado  her  a  .vessel  of  mercy,  and  an  instrument  of  spiritual 
good  to  her  family. 

The  time  for  departing  to  the  church  was  now  at  hand. 

I  went  to  take  my  last  look  at  the  deceased. 

There  was  much  written  on  her  countenance.  She 
had  evidently  died  with  a  smile.  It  still  remained,  and 
spoke  the  tranquillity  of  her  departed  soul.  According 
to  the  custom  of  the  country,  she  was  decorated  with 
leaves  and  flowers  in  the  coffin :  she  seemed  as  a  bride 
gone  forth  to  meet  the  bridegroom.  These  indeed  were 
fading  flowers,  but  they  reminded  me  of  that  Paradise 
where  flowers  are  immortal,  and  where  her  never-dying 
soul  is  at  rest. 

I  remembered  the  last  words  which  I  had  heard  her 
speak,  and  was  instantly  struck  with  the  happy  thought, 
that  ''death  was  indeed  swallowed  up  in  victory." 

As  I  slowly  retired,  I  said  inwardly,  ''  Peace,  my 
honoured  sister,  be  to_  thy  memory  and  to  my  soul,  till 
we  meet  in  a  better  world." 

In  a  little  time  the  procession  formed :  it  was  rendere*d 
the  more  interesting  by  the  consideration  of  so  many 
that  followed  the  coffin  being  persons  of  a  devoted  and 
spiritual  character.  The  distance  was  rather  more  than 
a  mile.  I  resolved  to  continue  with  and  go  before  them, 
as  they  moved  slowly  onwards.^ 

Immediately  after  the  body  came  the  venerable  father 
and  mother,*  bending  with  age,  and  weeping  through 

*The  mother  died  not  long  after  her  daughter;  and  I  have  good  reason  to 
believe,  that  God  was  merciful  to  her,  and  took  her  to  himself. 

An  interesting  account  of  a  visit  recently  mado  to  the  Dairyman's  cottage, 
appeared  in  the  Christian  Guardian,  for  Ootober  1813.  —  A  still  more  recent 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  95 

much  afFectioa  of  heart.  Their  appearance  was  calculated 
to  excite  every  emotion  of  pity,  love,  and  esteem.  The 
other  relatives  followed  them  in  order,  and  the  several 
attendant  friends  took  their  places  behind. 

After  we  had  advanced  about  a  hundred  yards,  my 
meditation  was  unexpectedly  and  most  agreeably  inter- 
rupted by  the  friends  who  attended  beginning  to  sing  a 
funeral  psalm.  Nothing  could  be  more  sweet  or  solemn. 
The  well  known  effect  of  the  open  air  in  softening  and 
blending  the  sounds  of  music,  was  here  peculiarly  felt. 
The  road  through  which  we  passed  was  beautiful  and 
romantic.  It  lay  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  which  occasionally 
re-echoed  the  voices  of  the  singers,  and  seemed  to  give 
faint  replies  to  the  notes  of  the  mourners.  The  funeral 
knell  was  distinctly  heard  from  the  church  tower,  and 
greatly  increased  the  effect  which  this  simple  and  becom- 
ing service  produced. 

We  went  by  several  cottages:  a  respectful  attention 
was  universally  observed  as  we  passed :  and  tlie  counte- 
nances of  many  proclaimed  their  regard  for  the  departed 
young  woman.  The  singing  was  regularly  continued, 
with  occasional  intervals  of  about  five  minutes  during 
our  whole  progress. 

J  cannot  describe  the  state  of  my  own  mind  as  pecu- 
liarly connected  with  this  solemn  singing.  I  was 
reminded  of  elder  times  and  ancient  piety.  I  wished  the 
practice  more  frequent.  It  seems  well  calculated  to 
excite  and  cherish  devotion  and  religious  affections. 

Music,  when  judiciously  brought  into  the  service  of 
religion^  is  one  of  the  most  delightful,  and  not  least 
efficacious  means  of  grace.  I  pretend  not  too  minutely 
to  conjecture  as  to  the  actual  nature  of  those  pleasures 
which,  after  the  resurrection,  the  reunited  body  and  soul 

visit  to  the  good  old  Dairyman  (who  stiU  lives,  at  the  age  of  82)  has  been  made 
by  the  author  of  this  narrative.     (June  1814.) 

The  good  old  Dairyman  died  in  1816.  —  Ilis  end  was  eminently  Christian. 


96  THE   dairyman's   daughter. 

will  enjoy  in  heaven ;  but  I  can  hardly  persuade  myself 
that  melody  and  harmony  will  be  wanting,  when  evea 
the  sense  of  hearing  shall  itself  be  glorified. 

We  at  length  arrived  at  the  church.  Looking  upivards 
as  I  drew  near  the  porch,  I  observed  a  dial  on  the  wall. 
The  sun's  declining  rays  directed  the  shadow  to  the 
evening  hour.  As  I  passed  underneath  this  simple  but 
solemn  monitor,  I  was  reminded  of  the  lapse  of  time, 
the  uncertainty  of  life,  and  sure  approach  of  eternity.  I 
thought  with  David,  "  We  are  strangers  before  thee,  and 
sojourners,  as  were  all  our  fathers ;  our  days  on  the  earth 
are  as  a  shadow,  and  there  is  none  abiding."  "  Lord,  so 
teach  us  to  number  our  days,  that  we  may  apply  our 
hearts  unto  wisdom." 

The  service  was  heard  with  deep  and  affectionate 
attention.  When  we  came  to  the  grave,  the  hymn  which 
Elizabeth  had  selected  was  sung.  All  was  devout, 
simple,  ^^imating.  We  committed  our  dear  sister's 
body  to  the  earth,  in  full  hope  of  a  joyful  resurrection 
from  the  dead. 

Thus  was  the  vail  of  separation  drawn  for  a  season. 
She  is  departed  and  no  more  seen.  But  she  ivill  be  seen 
on  the  right  hand  of  her  Eedeemer  at  the  last  day ;  and 
will  again  appear  to  his  glory,  a  miracle  of  grace  and 
monument  of  mercy. 

My  reader,  rich  or  poor,  shall  you  and  I  appear  there 
likewise?  Are  we  ^'clothed  with  humility,"  and  arrayed 
in  the  wedding-garment  of  a  Eedeemer's  righteousness  ? 
Are  we  turned  from  idols  to  serve  the  living  God  ?  Are 
we  sensible  of  our  own  emptiness,  and  therefore  flying 
to  a  Saviour's  fulness  to  obtain  grace  and  strength  ?  Do 
we  indeed  live  in  Christ,  and  on  him,  and  by  him,  and 
with  him  ?  Is  he  our  all  in  all  ?  Are  we  "  lost  and 
found? "  " dead  and  alive  again ?" 

My  ]poor  reader,  the  Dairyman's  daughter  was  a  2^oor 
girl,  and  the  child  of  a  ^oor  man.    Herein  thou  resemblest 


THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  97 

IiQr :  but  dost  thou  resemble  her,  as  she  resembled  Christ  ? 
Art  thou  made  rich  by  faith  ?  Hast  thou  a  crown  laid 
up  for  thee  ?  Is  thine  heart  set  upon  heavenly  riches  ? 
If  not,  read  this  story  once  more,  and  then  pray  earnestly 
for  like  precious  faith. 

But  if,  through  grace,  thou  dost  love  and  serve  the 
Bedeemer  that  saved  the  Dairyman's  daughter,  grace, 
peace,  and  mercy  be  with  thee!  The  lines  are  fallen 
unto  thee  in  pleasant  places  :  thou  hast  a  goodly  heritage. 
Press  forward  in  duty,  and  wait  upon  the  Lord,  possess- 
ing thy  soul  in  holy  patience.  Thou  hast  just  been  with 
me  to  the  grave  of  a  departed  believer.  Now  "  go  thy 
way,  till  the  end  be ;  for  thou  shalt  rest,  and  stand  in  thy 
lot  at  the  end  of  the  days." 

A  TRIBUTE  of  affection  has  recently  been  paid  to  the 
memory  of  the  Dairyman's  daughter,  by  raising  a  sub- 
scription and  putting  up  a  grave-stone,  on  which  tho 
following  verses  are  inscribed: 

"  Stranger !  if  e'er  by  chance  or  feeling  led, 
Upon  this  hallowed  turf  thy  footsteps  tread, 
Turn  from  the  contemplation  of  the  sod, 
And  think  on  her  whose  spirit  rests  with  God. 
Lowly  her  lot  on  earth, —  but  He,  who  bore 
Tidings  of  grace  and  blessings  to  the  poor 
Gave  her,  his  truth  and  faithfulness  to  prove, 
The  choicest  treasures  of  his  boundless  love, — 
(Faith,  that  dispell'd  affliction's  darkest  gloom  ; 
Hope,  that  could  cheer  the  passage  to  the  tomb ; 
Peace,  that  not  Hell's  dark  legions  could  destroy; 
And  love,  that  fill'd  the  soul  with  heavenly  joy.) 
Death  of  its  sling  disarm'd,  she  knew  no  fear. 
But  tasted  heaven  e'en  while  she  linger'd  here. 
Oh,  happy  saint! — may  we  like  thee  be  blest: 
In  life  be  faithful,  and  in  deatli  find  rest! " 


9«  THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTEE. 


APPENDIX, 


The  first  two  letters  were  addressed  by  the  Dairyman's 
daughter  to  her  father.  I  of  course  omit  those  passages 
which  axe  strictly  personal  and  private. 


TO  MR.  JOSEPH  WALLBRIDGE. 

Southampton,  Feh.  23,  1797. 
My  dear  and  honoured  father, 

-X-  *  -x-  * 

And  now,  my  dear  father,  I  do  not  know 
what  to  say  to  change  the  scene.  I  suppose  you  were  a 
little  alarmed  the  other  day,  when  the  fleet  of  colliers 
came  in,  and  they  were  taken  for  French.  It  was  reported 
here  that  they  were  landed  at  several  places ;  and  we 
should  have  soon  been  over  in  the  island  for  shelter  from 
them :  as  if  by  that  means  we  could  ''flee  from  the  wrath 
to  come,"  or  stay  the  hand  of  an  Almighty  and  justly- 
avenging  God,  who  for  the  sins  of  mankind  has  sent  his 
judgments  abroad  in  the  earth.  And  even  now  we  are 
ready  to  say  to  that  God  who  hath  so  long  withheld  the 
sword  of  vengeance  from  destroying  us,  and  still  extends 
his  everlasting  arms  of  mercy  to  save  us  —  "  Depart  from 
us" — for  we  desire  not  the  knowledge  of  him.  But  I 
hope,  my  dear  father,  that  the  Lord  will  have  mercy  on 
us  and  bring  us  out  of  that  gross  darkness  into  his 
marvellous  light,  and  set  our  feet  on  a  rock  that  is  higher 
that  we  are.     But  we  are  informed  by  the  word  of  God, 


THE     DAIRYMAN'S    DAUGHTEK.  \)d 

that  if  we  would  have  all  these  blessings  bestowed  on  ns, 
we  must  fix  all  our  hopes  and  our  faith  on  the  blessed 
Lamb  of  God  that  was  slain  to  redeem  the  fallen  children 
of  Adam.  For  ^'  as  in  Adam  all  died,  so  shall  all "  true 
believers  "  in  Christ  be  made  alive "  to  God :  and  then, 
my  dear  father,  we  may  say, 

"Prisoners  of  hope,  lift  up  your  heads 

The  day  of  liberty  draws  near ; 
Jesus,  who  on  the  serpent  treads. 

Shall  soon  in  your  behalf  appear : 
The  Lord  will  to  his  temple  come, 
Prepare  your  hearts  to  make  him  room. 

My  dear  father,  I  hope  that  God  will  not  suffer  sick- 
ness or  death  ever  to  surprise  us  unawares,  or  find  us  in 
a  state  unprepared. 

*  ^  "X  * 

Please  to  give  my  duty  to  my  dear  and  tender  mother, 
and  accept  the  same  yourself,  and  love  to  dear  brothers 
and  sisters :  and  may  the  blessed  Spirit  of  God  be  very 
powerful  in  all  your  hearts  to  root  out  every  evil. 


LETTEE    11. 

Souihamjpton,  April  11,  1797. 
My  dear  Father, 

I  have  been  silent  longer  than  I  should,  had 
my  dear  sister  written  before ;  but,  as  I  know  all  things 
are  guided  and  governed  by  Him  whom  my  soul  loveth, 
I  wait  patiently  his  appointed  time.  O,  my  dear  father, 
it  is  good  to  trust  in  him,  to  call  upon  him,  to  honour 
his  holy  name.  O,  if  you  have  not  tasted  how  good  and 
gracious  the  Lord  is,  then  turn  and  seek  him  while  he 
may  be  found.  None  ever  sought  his  glorious  face  in 
vain;  and  those  ''that  come  unto  me  (saith  the  dear 


100  THE    DAIEY  man's    DAUGHTEK. 

•  Lamb  of  God)  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out."  ISTo:  his 
tender  love,  pity,  and  compassion,  never  fail  to  poor 
sinners.  No:  tliougli  my  dear  mother  and  father  have 
lived  to  near  the  time  that  my  God  hath  said  shall  be  the 
age  of  man ;  and  ye  have  still  been  sinning  and  grieving, 
and  hiding  as  it  were  your  faces  from  that  God  who  is 
still  pursuing  you  with  his  love  and  mercy,  yea,  even 
the  blessed  Jesus,  who  is  still  making  intercession  for 
sinners  at  his  Father's  right  hand.     And 

"  When  justice  bared  the  sword 

To  cut  the  fig-tree  down, 
The  pity  of  my  Lord 

Cried,  let  it  still  alone  : 
The  Father  mild  inclined  his  ear, 
And  spares  us  yet  another  year." 

But  remember,  my  dear  friends,  his  blessed  words: 
"my  Spirit  shall  not  always  strive  with  man;"  and, 
"  except  you  are  born  again,  ye  cannot  inherit  the  king- 
dom of  heaven ; "  and  if  you  are  not  washed  in  the 
precious  blood  of  that  dear  Lamb  of  God,  you  can  have 
no  part  with  him  ;  and  if  his  Spirit  does  not  "  bear  wit- 
ness with  your  spirit"  that  you  are  born  of  God,  you 
are  still  in  your  sins,  and  strangers  to  the  blood  that 
bought  you  on  the  tree.  Oh !  my  daily  prayer  to  God 
is,  that  he  will  "  turn  you,  and  so  shall  you  be  turned." 
Oh !  the  dear  Eedeemer  still  waits  to  be  gracious ;  he  is 
ever  ready  to  pardon  your  sins,  and  seal  it  with  his 
precious  blood ;  he  is  ever  calling,  "  Come  unto  me,  all 
ye  that  do  labour  and  are  heavy  laden"  with  the  burden 
of  your  sins,  "  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  Then  I  entreat 
you,  my  dear  friends,  in  the  name  of  the  most  high  God, 
that  ye  turn  and  lay  hold  of  the  ever-blessed  Jesus  as 
your  shield  of  faith,  and  he  will  arm  you  with  the  whole 
armour  of  God.  But  remember  this :  though  God  is  full 
of  love  and  mercy,  yet  he  will  be  sought  unto.  Then 
draw  nigh  unto  God  in  secret  prayer,  and  God  will  draw 


THE    DAIRYMAN'S    DAUGHTER.  101 

nigh  unto  your  precious  souls,  and  that  to  bless  them ; 
and  will  say  unto  you,  believe  on  me,  ''  my  grace  is 
sufficient  for  you,"  I  will  cleanse  you  in  my  precious 
blood :  and  then  shall  your  leprosy  be  healed,  and  you 
shall  return  without  spot.  And  then  you  must  watch 
and  pray  to  him  continually  to  keep  you  clean.  Oh !  he 
is  always  more  ready  to  hear  than  we  are  to  pray,  and 
more  ready  to  give  than  we  to  ask.  Eemember,  my  dear 
father,  that  the  language  of  every  prayerless  and  uncon- 
verted soul  is,  "  depart  from  me,  O  God ; "  for  we  desire 
not  the  knowledge  of  the  Most  High.  Then  put  off  the 
evil  day  no  longer,  lest  you  should  hear  him  say,  who  is 
willing  and  able  to  &ave  to  the  utmost  those  that  come 
unto  him,  "  I  have  stretched  out  my  hand  all  the  day 
long,  and  no  man  regarded."  And  ^'  behold  I  knock  at 
the  door  of  every  man's  heart,  and  to  him  that  openeth 
unto  me  I  will  come  in,  and  sup  with  him,  and  he  with 
me.  My  dear  father,  these  are  blessed  and  comfortable 
words ;  and  I  am  his  living  witness,  and  I  "  set  to  my 
seal"  that  Jesus  is  true.  0  the  happy  state  of  the 
children  of  God !  Now  I  ask  and  receive :  I  seek  and  I 
find  him  whom  my  soul  loveth ;  yea,  I  always  find  I 
have  a  very  near  access,  through  his  blessed  intercession, 
to  supplicate  the  throne  of  grace ;  and  now  I  can  say, 

"  Before  the  throne  my  surety  stands, 
My  name  is  written  on  his  hands ; " 

and  now  I  am  so  filled  with  the  peace  and  love  of  God, 
that  I  can  lift  up  my  soul  and  say, 

"  My  God,  I  know,  I  feel  thee  mine, 

And  will  not  quit  my  claim, 
Till  all  I  have  is  lost  in  thine, 
.  And  all  renewed  I  am ;" 

and 

"  Where'er  I  am,  where'er  I  move, 
I  meet  the  object  of  my  love." 


1(12  THE    dairyman's    D  A  U  G  H  T  E  B. 

The  Lord  doth  so  strengthen  my  faith  in  him,  that  1 
find  all  his  promises  stand  engaged  to  make  me  blessed. 
O  may  God  pardon  what  his  poor  unworthy  dust  has 
written  through  ignorance,  which  is  not  agreeable  to  his 
most  blessed  will  which  I  will  ever  seek  to  fulfil ! 

•X-  *  «  -Jf 

I  have  so  little  taste  for  the  conversation  of  this  worlds 
that  it  is  very  unpleasant  to  think  on  it.  My  sister's 
love  and  duty  to  all.  Mr.  B.  will  be  in  the  island  soon, 
please  God,  and  then  you  are  to  write  to  her.  Desire 
my  brother  to  write  to  and  direct  her  to  the  house  of 
God  in  Bath,  for  she  is  still  walking  in  darkness  and  is 
ignorant  of  it.  O  may  the  Lord  be  graciously  pleased 
to  bring  you  all  into  his  marvellous  light,  that  you  may 
praise  him  in  time  and  eternity :  then  strive  to  enter  in 
at  the  strait  gate.  ...  If  the  Lord  shall  please  to 
spare  me,  I  hope  to  see  you  ere  long;  if  not  in  this 
world,  in  that  where  we  shall  bask  in  unutterable  bliss. 
My  dear  friends,  take  not  this  advice  amiss  from  your 
unworthy  child ;  it  is  the  command  of  my  blessed  Lord, 
"when  thou  art  converted,  remember  thy  brethren:" 
and  I  daily  take  up  my  cross  and  follow  him  whitherso- 
ever he  goeth :  and  I  pray  God  enable  you  to  do  the 
same.  0  how  should  I  rejoice  and  praise  my  God  to  see 
you  enabled,  through  the  inspiration  of  the  Spirit  of  the 
Most  High,  to  answer  this  ill- written  letter! — Farewell, 
in  the  Lord,  dear  friends. 


The  third  letter  is  to  her  sister. 

LETTBE   IIL 

Gowes,  October  14,  1798. 
My  dear  Sister, 

I  have  not  had  a  convenient  opportunity 
to  write  till  now :  I  hope  you  have  not  been  unhappy  at 


THE     DAIEYMAN's    DAUGHTER.  103 

my  long  silence.  Consider  that  God  is  my  keeper,  there- 
fore, "  I  shall  lack  no  manner  of  thing  that  is  good."  I 
entreat  you  to  commend  the  keeping  of  your  soul,  spirit, 
and  body  to  the  Lord,  for  he  is  a  promise-making,  and 
a  true  and  faithful  promise-keeping  God. 

"  Then  let  me  commend  my  Saviour  to  you, 
The  publican's  friend  and  advocate  too." 

My  dear,  I  say  that  God  is  my  keeper :  you  will  say^ 
he  is  yours  —  it  is  true,  for  ''in  him  we  all  live,  move, 
and  have  our  being ; "  but  I  can  say  with  Job,  "  I  know 
that  my  Eedeemer  liveth  "  and 

"  He  is  now  pleading  his  merits  and  death, 
And  still  Interceding  for  sinners  beneath  j"^ 

and  he  is  waiting  to  be  gracious  to  you,  for  he  is  long- 
suffering  and  kind,  plenteous  in  goodness ;  his  love  and 
mercy  know  no  end  nor  bounds,  and  his  compassions 
fail  not :  now,  my  dear, 

"  Ready  for  you  the  angels  wait, 
To  triumph  in  your  blest  estate ; 
Tuning  theii^  harps,  they  long  to  praise 
The  wonders  of  redeeming  grace." 

0  my  dear  sister,  search  the  scriptures  diligently ;  pray 
to  God  earnestly;  for  in  so  doing,  you  will  find  that  he 
is  a  God  "nigh  at  hand,  and  not  afar  off."  He  has 
promised  to  be  found  of  those  that  seek  him ;  for  none 
ever  sought  his  face  in  vain,  neither  did  ever  any  trust 
in  him,  and  was  deceived.  0  my  dear  sister,  if  you  did 
but  believe  how  willing  God  is  to  reveal  his  Son  in  your 
heart,  the  hope  of  glory !  O  how  would  your  soul  be 
ravished,  if  Christ  would  appear  to  you  the  altogether 
lovely,  and.  the  first  among  ten  thousand !  Then  could 
you  say  those  blessed  words, 

"  My  soul,  through  my  Redeemer's  love, 
Saved  from  the  second  death  I  feel ; 
My  eyes  from  tears  of  dark  despair, 
My  feet  from  falling  into  hell. 


104  THE     DAIKY  man's    DAUGHTER. 

Wherefore  to  him  my  feet  shall-run, 
My  eyes  on  his  perfections  gaze, 
My  soul  shall  live  for  God  alone, 
And  all  within  me  shout  his  praise." 

I  entreat  you  to  read  the  word  of  God  carefally, 
for  in  it  is  eternal  life.  All  the  promises  there  stand 
engaged  to  make  you  blessed,  if  you  truly  repent,  and 
forsake  your  sins,  and  turn  to  God  with  full  purpose  of 
heart,  and  fully  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that 
he  will  -save  you  from  your  sins,  with  a  present  and 
everlasting  salvation  :  for  he  says,  only  believe  and  thou 
shall  be  saved.  We  should  receive  the  Word  of  God,  as 
if  it  was  the  awful  voice  of  God  from  heaven.  It  will 
be  awful  tO'  the  wicked  and  unconverted :  ....  0 
may  the  Lord  quicken  your  dead  soul 


"  with  life  divine, 


And  make  you  in  his  image  shine." 

O  may  you  feel  the  kindlings  of  love  divine  shed 
abroad  in  your  heart.  Farewell  in  the  Lord,  my  dear 
sister. 


'I'he  following  little  narrative  seems  to  have  been 
intended  for  her  own  private  use.  It  is  apparently  left 
unfinished. 

November  30,  1800. 
Elizabeth  Wallbridge,  born  July  29,  1770, 
I  feel  my  mind  more  composed  when  writing,  and 
more  free  from  wandering  thoughts,  than  at  any  other 
time ;  for  I  have  little  retirement,  and  when  I  have,  it  is 
seldom  free  from  disturbances,  so  that  I  am  almost  con- 
tinually conversant  with  the  world.  The  Lord  knoweth 
what  a  burden  it  is  to  my  mind,  and  how  impatient  I 
have  been.  May  the  Lord  pardon  his  unfaithful,  un- 
profitable servant,    and  sanctify  me  throughout,   soul, 


105 

spirit,  and  body,  and  plunge  me  in  tlie  Godhead's  deepest 
sea,  that  I  may  be  lost  in  his  immensity.  O  glorious 
hope  of  perfect  love !  may  it  ever  fill  and  lift  my  ravished 
spirit  up  to  things  above ;  there  I  shall  for  ever  love. 

I  thought  I  would  just  set  down,  as  the  Lord  is  pleased 
to  give  me  time  and  strength,  a  few  of  his  particular 
mercies  and  favours  as  I  can  recollect.  He  has  abounded 
in  love  and  mercy  to  me :  O  that  I  had  made  him  all  the 
returns  that  love  could  make  by  giving  myself  a  sacrifice 
daily  unto  him  1  But  now  I  have  to  lament  my  short 
comings,  and  to  apply  to  the  "blood  of  sprinkling" 
which  speaks  my  sins  forgiven,  and  purifies  my  soul  and 
makes  it  meet  for  heaven.  O  what  a  precious  Saviour 
have  I  found  1  0  that  I  could  make  him  known  to  all 
mankind,  that  all  may  turn  and  taste  the  riches  of  his 
grace  I  At  present  I  am  so  very  weak  in  body  and  mind 
that  I  can  recollect  but  very  little :  it  has  been  decaying 
near  four  years ;  but  in  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  my  ever- 
lasting strength,  and  whoever  relies  on  him  shall  never 
be  ashamed,  and  shall  be  freed  from  all  slavish  fears. 

I  seemed  to  have  some  fear  of  God,  and  love  to  him 
from  my  childhood.  His  restraining  grace  kept  me  from 
falling  into  great  and  open  sin,  and  gave  me  such  a  love 
to  truth  and  uprightness,  that  I  seemed  to  hate  every 
false  way,  word,  and  work,  in  myself  and  others.  I 
remember,  when  I  went  to  school,  one  of  my  playmates 
that  I  was  very  fond  of,  used  to  take  every  opportunity 
to  get  money  from  her  mother  unknown  to  her,  and 
bring  to  school,  and  buy  all  kinds  of  little  toys,  and  then 
freely  give  me  and  another  or  two  an  equal  share  with 
herself.  But  0  how  did  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  strive 
with  me  at  that  time  and  convince  me  of  the  evil,  so  that 
I  had' no  peace  of  mind  whilst  I  partook  of  the  sin,  and 
yet  I  had  not  strength  to  resist  it.  It  was  so  on  my  mind 
that  I  ought  to  make  her  fault  known,  not  to  conceal  it 
and  partake  of  part.     I  could  see  it  a  great  evil  in  the 


106  THE    DAIRY  Mi.N'S    DAUGHTEK. 

person  that  sold  her  the  things,  whose  daughter  took 
part,  and,  I  believe,  knew  as  well  as  I  did  how  she  came 
by  it ;  but  I  never  revealed  it,  though  I  always  bore  it 
on  my  mind  with  abhorrence.  What  a  sad  thing  to 
yield  to  sin  against  such  clear  convictions ! 

I  was  early  taught  a  form  of  prayer,  which  I  continued 
to  repeat  in  a  careless  manner  when  I  was  laid  down  in 
bed,  but  very  often  I  fell  asleep  before  I  said  them  half. 
But,  blessed  be  God,  he  still  spared  me,  and  often  drew 
me  to  himself  by  the  cords  of  love ;  for  at  an  early  age 
he  drew  me  to  secret  prayer,  where  I  often  felt  the  kind- 
lings of  his  love ;  but  had  none  to  set  me  forward,  so 
that  I  often  neglected  this  duty ;  but  when  alone  I  have 
often  felt  great  sweetness  in  it.  I  believe  if  I  had  heard 
the  gospel  preached,  I  should  have  been  very  early 
devoted  to  that  God  I  now  love  and  adore.  But  I  do 
not  yet  love  him  as  he  has  promised  I  shall,  with  all  my 
loving  heart,  when  sin  is  all  destroyed.  O  happy  mo- 
ment, how  I  long  for  it  I 


The  last  document  is 

HETl   WILL. 

My  dear  father,  and  mother,  and  brothers  —  If  it 
should  please  the  Lord  to  spare  you  all,  till  after  my 
decease,  I  take  this  opportunity  to  set  down  what  I 
simply  desire,  if  it  be  the  Lord's  will  and  agreeable  to 
you  all.     If  I  die  under  this  roof,  it  will  be  best  as  soon 

as  I  am  dead,  to  have  my  cofiin  made;  let  Mr.  

make  it,  if  it  is  quite  agreeable ;  and  then  I  can  be 
carried  down  stairs,  not  to  disturb  you  or  break  your 
rest.  And  there  the  angels  of  my  covenant-making  and 
promise-keeping  God  will  watch  over  me  and  protect  my 
sleeping  dust ;  so  that  you  need  not  fear  any  evil  spirit. 


THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  107 

for  they  will  have  done  with  me  for  ever,  they  will  never 
assault  me  any  more ;  I  shall  then,  through  Christ,  who 
hath  loved  me  with  an  everlasting  love,  gain  the  glorious 
victory  over  all  the  principalities  and  powers  of  dark- 
ness ;  for  they  know  that  I  am  a  redeemed  captive  from 
their  power,  though  they  cease  not  to  tempt  me  to  return 
to  my  former  customs,  that  I  may  be  again  in  bondage 
to  fear :  but  glory  be  given  to  God,  his  grace  is  sufQcient 
for  me ;  hitherto  he  hath  brought  me  safe  through,  and 
I  know  he  will  save  to  the  end.  May  I  lift  up  my  heart 
to  him  and  cry  —  O  thou 

"  Fairer  than  the  sons  of  men, 
Do  not  let  me  turn  again." 

Let  my  cof&n  be  very  plain,  neat,  and  strong,  made  to 
cover  very  close.  Let  it  be  made  white  inside  and  out, 
if  no  trouble ;  and  for  my  shroud  a  little  wool  will  do, 
if  you  like  it :  it  will  be  less  expense ;  for  it  will  all^turn 
to  dust.  I  care  not  who  you  ask  to  my  funeral :  I  want 
no  form  of  young  people,  I  had  rather  have  those  that 
love  God,  that  they  may  rejoice  over  me  with  angels 
above,  and  praise  a  God  of  love.  [_She  then  names  several 
friends  whom  she  desired  to  he  present,  and  proceeds^  Let 
them  all  meet  together  that  can  or  will  come  .  .  .  and  I 
trust  they  will  feel  the  Lord  powerfully  present  in  the 
midst  to  bless  every  waiting  soul,  and  reveal  the  secrets 
of  his  love.  Mr.  Eichmond  or  the  minister  of  N'ewchurch, 
which  you  please ;  I  love  them  both,  because  they  love 
God:  for  "God  is  love,"  and  his  love  constrains  us  to 

love  one  another Do  not  be  afraid  of  disturbing 

the  peacefuj  dead  in  singing  praises  to  God  and  the 
Lamb  who  hath  redeemed  me  from  sin.  It  may  be,  my 
happy  spirit  may  be  permitted  to  join  with  listening 
angels  who  catch  the  approving  sound,  while  all  heaven's 
host  cry  —  a  child  is  born  into  our  world  above. 

Let  these  hymns  be  sung:   the   37th,  "Hosanna  to 


108  THE     dairyman's    DAUGHTER. 

Jesus  on  high  ; "  the  85th,  "  'Tis  finished,  'tis  done ; "  the 
33rd,  "  Ah  lovely  appearance  of  death ; "  the  50th,  in 
the  large  book,  ''  Hark,  a  voice  divides  the  sky."  If  the 
preacher  please,  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of 
the  living,  let  him  preach  a  sermon  from  Psalm  cxvi.  15. 
''  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his 
saints ; "  and  may  the  word  be  attended  with  power ;  a 
divine  energy  and  the  quickening  influence  of  the  Spirit 
of  God  rest  upon  the  minister  and  the  hearers,  that  glory 
may  be  given  to  God,  and  great  good  done  in  his  pre- 
cious name;  that  his  saints  that  love  him  may  be 
strengthened  and  refreshed  and  built  up  in  their  most 
holy  faith ;  that  they  may  go  on  their  way  rejoicing  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord,  from  grace  to  grace,  till  glory  end 
what  grace  begun ;  that  they  may  be  fully  prepared  to 
meet  death  with  Christian  courage.  And  may  all  my 
dear  friends  follow  on  to  know  the  Lord,  and  experi- 
mentally to  feel  the  saving  power  of  divine  grace  in  each 
of  their  hearts,  that  they  may  give  glory  to  God,  and 
triumphantly  quit  the  stage  of  mortality,  shouting  — 
victory  through  the  blood  of  the  Lamb  that  was  slain, 
who  now  is  ascended  on  high  for  ever  to  reign.  But  I 
would  have  all  remember,  if  they  have  never  yet  been 
convinced  of  their  lost  and  miserable  state  by  nature, 
that  it  is  high  time  for  them  to  awake  out  of  sleep,  and 
cry  mightily  to  God  to  show  them  their  danger  and  save 
them  from  destruction.  For  without  faith  and  prayer 
you  cannot  be  saved.  Then  come  like  the  humble 
publican,  with  a  feeling  sense  of  your  sins,  and  true  faith 
in  his  merits  to  atone  for  your  sins  and  cleanse  your 
guilty  souls,  and  you  will  be  sure  to  find  mercy,  pardon, 
and  peace,  and  grace  to  help  you  in  every  time  of  need. 
When  I  was  brought  home,  I  was  in  great  hopes  I 
should  see  a  great  change;  but  I  have  been  painfully 
disappointed  to  the  present  moment,  which  often  fills  my 
heart  with  grief  and  sorrow,  to  see  sinners  so  uncon- 


THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER.  109 

cerned  upon  the  brink  of  death.  But  if  I  am  neyer 
permitted  to  see  that  happy  change,  I  hope  you  will 
experience  it,  and  meet  me  in  glory :  there  we  shall  part 
no  more.  [The  remainder  is  occupied  with  the  distribution 
of  her  little  property,  consisting  almost  entirely  of  wearing 
apparel,  among  her  relatives^ 


The  following  letters  were  addressed  to  the  Dairyman's 
daughter  by  Mr.  Eichmond.  The  first  is  merely  a  short 
note,  but  it  is  inserted  as  a  characteristic  illustration  of 
the  style  in  which  he  addressed  her. 

LETTEK   I. 

It  has  pleased  God,  my  Christian  sister,  for 
several  weeks  past  to  keep  me  in  a  state  of  sickness, 
from  which  soon  by  his  goodness  I  hope  to  be  relieved. 
I  am  at  present  unable  to  say  half  what  I  wish  to  you ; 
but  lest  you  should  suspect  me  of  inattention  to  your 
friendly  and  welcome  letter,  I  write  these  few  lines  to 
say,  that  you  shall  either  hear  from  me  at  length,  or  see 
me  shortly.  May  God  support  you  through  your  trial 
of  ill-health ;  and  the  nearer  you  approach  the  other 
world,  whenever  it  be  God's  appointed  time,  may  you  be 
more  and  more  heavenly-minded.  Peace  be  multiplied 
to  you.     I  pray  for  you  and  beg  you  to  know 

How  faithfully  I  am, 
Yours  in  Christ, 

L.  ElCHMONU. 


10 


110  THE    DAIRYMAN'S    DAUGHTER. 


LETTER    11. 

You  maj  be  assured  upon  the  faitli  of  one  who 
loves  God  and  would  fain  serve  and  obey  him,  that  you 
are  not  out  of  my  mind,  though  I  have  been  prevented 
from  doing  myself  the  pleasure  of  calling  upon  you.  I 
have  also  delayed  writing  till  now  from  an  almost  daily 
expectation  of  coming  your  way,  but  as  it  has  happened 
otherwise,  I  now  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your  last 
letter,  and  rejoice  at  the  sight  of  words  dictated  by  a 
spirit  of  godliness,  humility,  and  love.  In  a  perverse 
and  adulterous  generation,  like  the  present  one,  what 
can  be  so  cheering  to  the  soul  as  converse  with  those 
who  really  know  the  Lord,  and  love  him  because  he 
hath  first  loved  them  ?  I  am  well  convinced  of  the 
propriety  and  force  of  your  advice  with  respect  to  my 
conduct,  and  that  of  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  in  general. 
God  grant  such  a  weak  and  unprofitable  servant  as  I  am, 
may  find  grace  and  ability  to  conduct  myself  as  becomes 
a  faithful  labourer  in  the  vineyard !  For  who  can  do  it 
of  his  own  strength  ?  What  are  the  natural  powers  of 
sinful  man  to  work  out  the  righteousness  of  God  ?  To  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  which  changeth  and  strengtheneth  the 
inner  man,  we  must  attribute  all :  to  him  be  honour, 
glory,  and  praise  in  all  the  churches  now  and  evermore. 
I  have  read  your  two  books,  and  find  much  profit  in 
them  both.  It  appears  that  the  life  of  Madame  Guion 
should  be  attended  to  with  some  caution,  which  Mr. 
Wesley  very  frequently  draws  our  observation  to  in  his 
short  notes  at  the  bottom  of  the  pages.  She  was  some- 
times influenced  by  notions  which  had  not  a  sufficiently 
strong  scriptural  foundation,  and  therefore  in  these  things 
should  not  be  set  as  a  pattern ;  but  her  love  of  God  and 
her  anxiety  to  be  for  ever  joined  to  him,  are  lovely  and 


THE    DAIEY  man's    DAUGHTER.  Ill 

interesting.  The  true  rule  for  discerning  the  motions 
and  operations  of  the  blessed  Spirit  within  us,  is  to  com- 
pare our  feelings  with  those  ways  of  holiness,  happy 
fruits  of  the  Spirit,  which  the  apostle  describes :  let 
every  thing  be  referred  to  this  as  a  standard  and  we 
never  shall  be  mistaken.  May  God  so  guide  and  direct 
you  and  me  to  all  goodness,  that  our  works  may  glorify 
—  not  ourselves,  none  but  Jesus  can  do  that,  but  —  our 
Father  which  is  in  heaven.  May  numbers  have  reason, 
through  the  mercy  of  God,  to  bless  our  memory :  and 
may  the  seed  which  in  my  ministerial  capacity  I  am 
commissioned  to  sow,  to  plant,  and  to  water,  receive  its 
due  increase  from  God.  I  assure  you  this  lies  much  at 
my  heart,  and  occupies  much  of  my  thoughts ,  seeing 
and  "  knowing  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,"  I  would  "  per- 
suade men "  with  all  truth,  earnestness,  and  sincerity,  to 
flee  from  the  wrath  to  come,  and  throw  themselves  and 
their  sins  at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  with  true  repentance 
and  faith.  Faith  is  the  hand  which  we  stretch  forth  to 
receive  the  benefits  of  Christ's  blood ;  it  is  the  soul  of 
the  spiritual  life,  and  the  grand  distinguishing  charac- 
teristic of  the  true  Christian  from  the  false;  it  is  the 
touchstone  of  Christianity ;  the  burning  coal  Avhich  sets 
fire  to  the  sacrifice  on  the  altar ;  the  sun  which  enlightens 
the  wilderness  of  the  world;  the  lantern  which  guides 
our  feet  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  True 
faith  never  can  be  separated  from  hope  and  love ;  they 
are  three  lovely  sisters  who  take  up  their  dwelling  in 
the  heart  when  it  becomes  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
their  parent  is  God,  and  their  offspring,  righteous  works : 
how  do  they  shine  forth  in  the  midst  of  a  vain  and 
wicked  world,  like  a  candle  set  upon  a  hill  in  a  dark  and 
gloomy  night !  May  their  operations  spread  wider  and 
wider  over  the  face  of  the  world,  and  may  the  church  of 
God  increase  in  their  fruits,  till  at  length  the  happy  time 
shall   arrive  when  the  kingdoms   of  this   world   shall 


112  THE    dairyman's    DAUGHTER. 

become  the  kingdom  of  the  Lord  and  his  Anointed.  God 
hasten  so  blessed  a  period ! 

I  was  much  shocked  at  the  sudden  death  of  my  neigh- 
bour   .      Such   unprepared   calls   ought   to   operate 

upon  those  that  are  left  behind,  as  salutary  warnings : 
alive  and  healthy  this  morning,  who  knoweth  that  this 
very  night  our  souls  shall  not  be  required  of  us  ?     Let 
us  be  on  the  watch  and  endeavour  to  make  others  so,  for 
we  "  know  neither  the  day  nor  the  hour  "  of  our  Master's 
coming.     I  am  told  that  his  successor  has  given  some 
strong  calls  to  duty  and  attentiveness  in  religion,  which 
I  hope  in  God  will  prove  efficacious.      He  appears  in 
conversation  very  much  in  earnest,  and  seems  steady  and 
persevering ;  but  I  have  only  seen  him  twice.     In  that 
parish  you  well  know  how  much  reformation  is  wanted. 
Alas  !  into  what  place  can  we  go  where  it  is  not  wanting  ? 
Iniquity  triumphs,  and  presumption  darkens  the  very 
heavens   with    her   wide-spreading   wings ;    blasphemy, 
covetousness,  and  uncleanness,  abound  and  prosper ;  men 
are  lovers  of  pleasure,  rather  than  lovers  of  God.     Does 
not  the  world  go  just  as  Satan  would  have  it  ?     Some- 
times  he   will   even   suggest   to  the  faithful  that  their 
endeavours  are  in  vain,  and  he  tempts  to  inactivity  and 
sloth;  but,  blessed  be  God,  the  Bible  is  in  our  hands, 
and  there  we  find  arguments,  and  strength,  and  consola- 
tion, and  admonition,  and  precept,  and  commandment, 
and  encouragement  to  proceed  in  the  mighty  task  of 
beating  down  the  strong  holds  of  iniquity,  and  destroy- 
ing the  works  of  the  devil.     Even  though    'Uhe  over- 
flowings  of  ungodliness   may   make    us    afraid,"   God 
worketh  the  good  cause,  and  in  the  end  it  shall  prosper. 
The  church  shall  never  fail,  nor  shall  the  gates  of  hell 
prevail  against  it.     Your  health,  I  hear,  is  weak :  may 
God  strengthen  the  inner  man  as  he  thinks  fit  to  weaken 
the  outer ;  may  his  kingdom  rule  in  your  heart,  though 
Ihe  outward  fortifications  crumble  to  dust.     If  it  j^lease 


THE     DAIRYMAN'S     DAUGIITEE.  113 

God  to  shorten  the  span  of  your  life^  I  trust  you  will 
meet  your  Eedeemer  with  peace  and  joy,  and  that  you 
will  employ  the  rest  of  that  time  which  is  appointed  you 
on  earth  in  promoting  the  cause  of  righteousness,  in 
combating  the  artifices  of  Satan,  resisting  the  ways  of 
ungodliness,  conversing  with  God  in  fervent  prayer  and 
holy  meditation,  contemplating  his  redeeming  love,  and 
hungering  after  higher  and  higher  degrees  of  virtue. 
May  the  prospect  of  an  heavenly  inheritance  keep  you 
alive  to  holiness  and  gratitude,  and  in  looking  upon  the 
world  around,  remember  that  the  true  spirit  of  the  gospel 
teaches  us  to  love  the  sinner  whilst  we  hate  the  sin. — ■ 
Grace,  mercy,  and  peace  be  multiplied  upon  you  from 
God  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
Believe  me  to  be 

Yours,  with  Christian  regard. 

L.  ElCHMOND. 
10* 


THE    NEGRO    SERVANT.  115 


THE 

NEGRO    SERVANT. 


PAKT   I. 

If  a  map  of  the  world,  instead  of  being  coloured  as  is 
usual,  witli  many  gay  and  brilliant  tints,  in  order  to 
distinguish  its  various  continents,  kingdoms,  and  islands, 
from  each  other,  were  to  be  painted  with  darker  or 
brighter  hues  corresponding  with  the  spiritual  character 
of  the  inhabitants,  what  a  gloomy  aspect  would  be  pre- 
sented to  the  eye  of  the  Christian  geographer  by  the 
greater  portion  of  the  habitable  globe!  —  How  dark 
would  be  the  shade  thus  cast  over  the  larger  districts  of 
the  vast  continents  of  Asia  and  America !  and  what  a 
mass  of  gloom  would  characterize  the  African  quarter 
of  the  world ! 

Here  and  there  a  bright  spot  would  mark  the  residence 
of  a  few  missionary  labourers  devoting  themselves  to 
God,  and  scattering  the  rays  of  Christian  light  among 
the  surrounding  heathen:  but  over  the  greater  part  "the 
blackness  of  darkness"  would  emblematically  describe 
the  iron  reign  of  Mahometan  superstition  and  Pagan 
idolatry. 

The  Christian  prays  that  God  would  "have  respect 
unto  the  covenant ;  for  the  dark  places  of  the  earth  are 
full  of  the  habitations  of  cruelty."  He  hopes  to  see  the 
nations  "open  their  eyes,  and  turn  from  darkness  to 
light,  and  from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God,  that  they 


116  THE    NEGRO    SERVANT. 

may  receive  forgiveness  of  sins,  and  inheritance  among 
them  which  are  sanctified  by  faith." 

The  curse  originally  pronounced  on  the  descendants 
of  Ham,  has,  in  a  variety  of  respects,  both  temporal  and 
spiritual;  been  awfully  fulfilled :  "A  servant  of  servants 
shall  he  be."  Slavery,  as  well  of  mind  as  body,  has  been 
continued  amongst  the  Africans  through  their  genera- 
tions, in  a  manner  which  at  once  proves  the  truth  of  the 
divine  prediction,  and  yet  calls  aloud  for  the  ardent 
prayers  and  active  exertions  of  Christians  in  their  behalf. 
The  time  will  come  when  the  heathen  shall  be  proved  to 
have  been  given  to  Christ  "  for  an  inheritance,  and  the 
uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  his  possession."  The 
degraded  Hottentot  and  the  poor  benighted  Negro  will 
look  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  unto  Jesus,  and  be  saved. 
"  Many  shall  go  to  and  fro,  and  knowledge  shall  thereby 
be  increased."  The  Eedeemer  "  shall  see  of  the  travail 
of  his  soul  and  be  satisfied,"  in  beholding  the  gathering 
together,  not  only  of  the  outcasts  of  Israel,  that  are  ready 
to  perish;  but  of  Churches  and  people  from  all  the 
tongues,  and  kindreds,  and  nations  of  the  earth.  In  the 
day  of  his  appearing,  -the  sons  of  Africa  will  vie  with 
their  brethren  of  the  Korth,  and  the  West,  and  the  East^ 
in  resounding  the  praises  of  God  their  Saviour  from  one 
end  of  the  earth  to  the  other. 

In  the  mean  time,  we  rejoice  in  every  occasional 
instance  of  the  love  and  power  of  God  in  effecting  the 
conversion  of  some,  who  appear  as  the  first  fruits  of  that 
harvest  which  shall  hereafter  so  fruitfully  grow  up,  to 
the  honour  of  Christ  and  the  blessedness  of  his  redeemed 
people. 

The  following  narrative  of  real  facts  may,  perhaps, 
illustrate  the  importance  of  the  foregoing  remarks. 

During  a  residence  of  some  years  continuance,  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  the  sea,  an  officer  in  the  navy  called 
upon  me,  and  stated,  that  he  had  just  taken  lodging  in 


THE    NEGEO    SEEVANT.  117 

the  parish  for  his  wife  and  children ;  and  had  a  Kegro, 
who  had  been  three  years  in  his  service.  ''  The  lad  is  a 
deserving  fellow/'  said  the  officer,  ''and  he  has  a  great 
desire  to  be  baptized ;  I  have  promised  him  to  ask  you 
to  do  it,  if  you  have  not  any  objections." 

"Does  he  know  any  thing,"  I  replied,  ''of  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Christian  religion  ?  " 

"Oyes,  lam  sure  he  does,"  answered  the  Captain; 
"for  he  talks  a  deal  about  it  in  the  kitchen,  and  often 
gets  laughed  at  for  his  pains ;  but  he  takes  it  all  very 
patiently." 

"  Does  he  behave  well  as  your  servant  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  he  does :  he  is  as  honest  and  civil  a  feilow 
as  ever  came  on  board  a  ship,  or  lived  in  a  house." 

"  Was  he  always  so  well  behaved  ?  " 

"No,"  said  the  officer;  "when  I  first  had  him,  he  was 
often  very  unruly  and  deceitful;  but  for  the  last  two 
years  he  has  been  quite  like  another  creature." 

"  Well,  Sir,  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see  him,  and  think 
it  probable  I  shall  wish  to  go  through  a  course  of 
instruction  and  examination ;  during  which  I  shall  be 
able  to  form  a  judgment  how  far  it  will  be  right  to  admit 
him  to  the  sacrament  of  baptism.     Can  he  read  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  his  master;  "he  has  been  taking  great 
pains  to  learn  to  read  for  some  tim.e  past,  and  can  mr^tke 
out  a  chapter  in  the  Bible  pretty  well,  as  my  m^id 
servant  informs  me.  He  speaks  English  better  tJian 
many  of  his  countrymen,  but  you  will  find  it  a  liitle 
broken.  When  will  it  be  convenient  that  I  should  send 
him  over  to  you  ?  " 

"  To-morrow  afternoon.  Sir,  if  you  please." 

"  He  shall  come  to  you  about  four  o'clock,  and  you 
shall  see  what  you  can  make  of  him." 

With  this  promise  he  took  his  leave.  I  felt  glad  of  an 
opportunity  of  instructing  a  native  of  that  land  whose 
wrongs  and  injuries  had  often  caused  me  to  sigh  and 


118        ,  THE    NEGRO    SERVANT. 

mourn :  the  more  so,  when  I  reflected  who  had  been  the 
aggressors. 

At  the  appointed  hour,  my  negro  disciple  arrived.  He 
was  a  very  young  looking  man,  with  a  sensible,  lively, 
and  pleasing  countenance. 

I  desired  him  to  sit  down,  and  said,  ''Your  master 
informs  me,  that  you  wish  to  have  some  conversation 
with  me  respecting  Christian  baptism." 

"Yes,  Sir,  me  very  much  wish  to  be  a  Christian," 
said  he. 

''  Why  do  you  wish  so  ?  " 

"  Because  me  know  that  Christian  go  to  heaven  when 
he  die." 

"  How  long  have  you  had  that  wish  ?  "  I  said. 

"Ever  since  me  hear  one  goot  minister  preach  in 
America,  two  years  ago." 

"  Where  were  you  born  ?  " 

"In  Africa.  Me  was  very  little  boy  when  me  was 
made  slave  by  de  white  men." 

"How  was  that?" 

''Me  left  father  and  mother  one  day  at  home  to  go  get 
shells  by  de  sea-shore,  and  as  I  was  stooping  down  to 
gather  dem  up,  some  white  sailors  came  out  of  a  boat 
and  took  me  away.  Me  never  see  father  nor  mother 
again." 

"  And  what  became  of  you  then  ?  " 

"  Me  was  put  into  ship,  and  brought  to  Jamaica,  and 
sold  to  a  master,  who  kept  me  in  his  house  to  serve  him 

some  years ;  when,  about  three  years  ago.  Captain  W j 

my  master  dat  spoke  to  you,  bought  me  to  be  his  servant 
on  board  his  ship.  And  he  be  goot  master ;  he  gave  me 
my  liberty,  and  made  me  free,  and  me  live  with  him  ever 
since." 

"  And  what  thoughts  had  you  about  your  soul  all  that 
time  before  you  went  to  America  ?  "  I  asked  him. 


THE    NEGRO     SERVANT.  119 

"  Me  no  care  for  my  soul  at  all  before  den.  No  man 
teach  me  one  word  about  my  soul." 

'^  Well,  now  tell  me  further  about  wliat  happened  to 
you  in  America.     How  came  you  there  ?  " 

"  My  master  take  me  dere  in  his  ship,  and  he  stop 
dere  one  month,  and  den  me  hear  the  goot  minister." 

''And  what  did  that  minister  say?" 

''He  said,  me  was  great  sinner." 

"  What,  did  he  speak  to  you  in  particular  ?  " 

'  Yes,  me  tink  so ;  for  dere  was  great  many  to  hear 
him,  but  he  tell  dem  all  about  me." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  He  say  about  all  de  tings  dat  were  in  my  heart." 

"What  things?" 

"  My  sin,  my  ignorance,  my  know  noting,  my  believe 
noting.  De  good  minister  made  me  see  dat  me  tinh 
noting  goot,  no  do  noting  goot." 

"  And  what  else  did  he  tell  you  ?  " 

"  He  sometime  look  me  in  de  face,  and  say,  dat  Jesus 
Christ  came  to  die  for  sinners,  poor  black  sinners,  as 
well  as  white  sinners.  Me  tought  dis  was  very  goot, 
very  goot  indeed,  to  do  so  for  a  wicked  sinner." 

"  And  what  made  you  think  this  was  all  spoken  to 
you  in  particular  ?  " 

"  Because  me  sure  no  such  wicked  sinner  as  me  in  all 
de  place.    De  goot  minister  must  know  me  was  dere." 

"And  what  did  you  think  of  yourself  while  he 
preached  about  Jesus  Christ  ?  " 

"Sir,  me  was  very  much  afraid,  when  he  said  de 
wicked  must  be  turned  into  hell-fire.  For  me  felt  that 
me  was  very  wicked  sinner,  and  dat  make  me  cry.  And 
he  talk  much  about  de  love  of  Christ  to  sinners,  and  dat 
make  me  cry  more.  And  me  tought  me  must  love 
Jesus  Christ;  but  me  not  know  how,  and  dat  make  me 
cry  again." 


120  THE     NEGBO     SERVANT. 

''Did  you  hear  more  sermons  than  one  during  that 
month?" 

"  Yes,  Sir ;  master  give  me  leave  to  go  tree  times,  and 
all  de  times  me  wanted  to  love  Jesus  more,  and  do  what 
Jesus  said ;  but  my  heart  seem  sometime  hard,  like  a 
stone." 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  any  preaching  since  that  time  ?  " 

"  Never,  till  me  hear  sermon  at  dis  church  last  Sunday, 
and  den  me  long  to  be  baptized  in  Jesus'  name ;  for  me 
had  no  Christian  friends  to  baptize  me  when  little  child." 

"  And  what  have  been  your  thoughts  all  the  time  since 
you  first  heard  these  sermons  in  America  ?  did  you  tell 
any  body  then  what  you  felt  ?  " 

"Ko,  me  spdak  to  nobody  but  to  God  den.  De  goot 
minister  say,  dat  God  hear  de  cry  of  de  poor ;  so  me  cry 
to  God,  and  he  hear  me.  And  me  often  tink  about  Jesus 
Christ,  and  wish  to  be  like  him." 

"  Can  you  read  ?  " 

''A  little." 

"  Who  taught  you  to  read  ?  " 

"  God  teach  me  to  read." 

''  What  do  you  mean  by  saying  so  ?  " 

"  God  give  me  desire  to  read,  and  dat  make  reading 
easy.  Master  give  me  Bible,  and  one  sailor  show  me  de 
letters :  and  so  me  learned  to  read  by  myself,  with  God's 
good  help." 

''  And  what  do  you  read  in  the  Bible  ?  " 

''  O !  me  read  all  about  Jesus  Christ,  and  how  he  loved 
sinners ;  and  wicked  men  killed  him,  and  he  died,  and 
came  again  from  de  grave,  and  all  dis  for  poor  negro. 
And  it  sometime  make  me  cry,  to  tink  dat  Christ  love 
so  poor  negro." 

"  And  what  do  the  people  say  about  your  reading  and 
praying,  and  attention  to  the  things  of  God  ?  " 

"Some  wicked  people  dat  do  not  love  Jesus  Christ, 
rail  me  great  fool,  and  negro  dog,  and  black  hypocrite. 


THE    NEGEO    SERVANT.  121 

And  dat  make  me  sometime  feel  angry:  but  den  me 
remember  Cliristian  must  not  be  angry  for  dat.  Jesus 
Christ  was  called  ugly  black  names,  and  lie  was  quiet  as 
a  lamb ;  and  so  den  me  remember  Jesus  Christ,  and  me 
say  noting  again  to  dem.^' 

I  was  much  delighted  with  the  simplicity  and  apparent 
sincerity  of  this  poor  negro ;  and  wished  to  ascertain 
what  measure  of  light  and  feeling  he  possessed  on  a  few 
leading  points.  St.  Paul's  summary  of  religion^'  occur- 
ring to  me,  I  said,  "  Tell  me  what  is  faith  ?  What  is 
your  own  faith?  What  do  you  believe  about  Jesus 
Christ,  and  your  own  soul  ?  " 

"Me  believe,"  said  he,  "dat  Jesus  Christ  came  into 
de  world  to  save  sinners ;  and  dough  me  be  chief  of  sin- 
ners, yet  Jesus  will  save  me,  dough  me  be  only  poor 
black  negro." 

"  AYhat  is  your  hope  ?  What  do  you  hope  for,  both 
as  to  this  life  and  that  which  is  to  come  ?  " 

"  Me  hope  Christ  Jesus  will  take  goot  care  of  me,  and 
keep  me  from  sin  and  harm,  while  me  live  here ;  and  me 
hope,  when  me  come  to  die,  to  go  and  live  with  him 
always,  and  never  die  again." 

''What  are  your  thoughts  about  Christian  love  or 
charity  ?     I  mean  whom  and  what  do  you  most  love  ?  " 

"Me  love  God  de  Father,  because  he  was  so  goot  to 
send  his  Son.  Me  love  Jesus  Christ,  because  he  love  me. 
Me  love  all  men,  black  men  and  white  men  too ;  for  God 
made  dem  all.  Me  love  goot  Christian  people,  because 
Jesus  love  dem,  and  dey  love  Jesus." 

Such  was  my  first  conversation  with  this  young  dis- 
ciple; I  rejoiced  in  the  prospect  of  receiving  him  into 
the  church,  agreeably  to  his  desire.  I  wished,  however, 
to  converse  somewhat  further,  and  enquire  more  minutely 

*  Now  abideth  faith,  hope,  charity ;  these  three :  but  the  greatest  of  these  ia 
charity.    (1  Cor.  xiii.  13.) 

11 


122  THE    NEGRO     SERVANT. 

into  his  conduct ;  and  promised  to  ride  over,  and  see 
him  in  a  few  days  at  his  master's  lodgings. 

When  he  was  gone,  I  thought  within  myself,  God  had 
indeed  redeemed  souls  by  the  blood  of  his  Son,  "  out  of 
every  kindred  and  tongue,  and  people  and  nation."  If 
many  of  them  for  a  season  are  devoted  to  earthly  slavery,'^ 
through  the  cruel  avarice  of  man;  yet,  blessed  be  God, 
some  amongst  them  are,  through  divine  grace,  called  to 
the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God ;  and  so  are 
redeemed  from  the  slavery  of  him  who  takes  so  many 
captive  at  his  will. 

It  is  a  tappy  thought,  that  "Ethiopia  shall  soon 
stretch  forth  her  hands  unto  God.  Sing  unto  God,  ye 
kingdoms  of  the  earth,  O  sing  praises  unto  the  Lord." 


PAKT   II. 


When  we  endeavour  to  estimate  the  worth  of  an 
immortal  soul,  we  are  utterly  lost  in  the  attempt.  The 
art  of  spiritual  computation  is  not  governed  by  the  same 
principles  and  rules  which  guide  our  speculations  con- 
cerning earthly  objects.  The  value  of  gold,  silver, 
merchandise,  food,  raiment,  lands,  and  houses,  is  easily 
regulated  by  custom,  convenience,  or  necessity.  Even 
the  more  capricious  and  imaginary  worth  of  a  picture, 
medal,  or  statue,  may  be  reduced  to  something  of  syste- 
matic rule.  Crowns  and  sceptres  have  had  their  adjudged 
valuation,  and  kingdoms  have  been  bought  and  sold  for 
sums  of  money.  But  who  can  affix  the  adequate  price 
to  a  human  soul  ?  "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  ho 
shall  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul?  or 
what  shall  a  man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?  " 

The  principles  of  ordinary  arithmetic  all  fail  her^^ 

*  This  circumstance  took  place  before  the  late  abolition  of  the  slave-trade 


THE    NEGRO     SERVANT.  123 

and  we  are  constrained  to  say,  that  He  alone  who  paid 
the  ransom  for  sinners,  and  made  the  souls  of  men  his 
"purchased  possession,"  can  comprehend  and  solve  the 
arduous  question.  They  are  indeed  "bought  with  a 
price:"  but  are  "not  redeemed  with  corruptible  things, 
as  silver  and  gold ;  but  with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ, 
as  of  a  lamb  without  blemish  and  without  spot."  We 
shall  only  ascertain  the  value  of  a  soul,  when  we  shall 
be  fully  able  to  estimate  the  worth  of  a  Saviour. 

Too  often  have  we  been  obliged  to  hear  what  is  the 
price  which  sordid  unfeeling  avarice  has  affixed  to  the 
body  of  a  poor  negro  slave ;  let  us  now  attempt,  while  we 
peruse  the  foregoing  narrative,  to  meditate  on  the  value 
which  Infinite  Mercy  has  attached  to  his  soul. 

Kot  many  days  after  the  first  interview  with  my  negro 
disciple,  I  went  from  home  with  the  design  of  visiting 
and  conversing  with  him  again  at  his  master's  house, 
which  was  situated  in  a  part  of  the  parish  near  four  miles 
distant  from  my  own.  The  road  which  I  took  lay  over 
a  lofty  down,  which  commands  a  prospect  of  scenery 
seldom  exceeded  in  beauty  and  magnificence.  It  gave 
birth  to  silent  but  instructive  contemplation. 

The  down  itself  was  covered  with  sheep,  grazing  on 
its  wholesome  and  plentiful  pasture.  Here  and  there  a 
shepherd's  boy  kept  his  appointed  station,  and  watched 
over  the  flock  committed  to  his  care.  I  viewed  it  as  an 
emblem  of  my  own  situation  and  employment.  Adjoin- 
ing the  hill  lay  an  extensive  parish,  wherein  many  souls 
were  given  me  to  watch  over,  and  render  an  account  of, 
at  the  day  of  the  great  Shepherd's  appearing.  The 
pastoral  scene  before  me  seemed  to  be  a  living  parable, 
illustrative  of  my  own  spiritual  charge.  I  felt  a  prayer- 
ful wish,  that  the  good  Shepherd  who  gave  his  life  for 
the  sheep,  might  enable  me  to  be  faithful  to  my  trust. 

It  occurred  to  me,  about  the  same  time,  that  my  young 
African  friend  was  a  sheep  of  another  more  distant  fold, 


124  THE    NEGRO     SERVANT. 

whicli  Christ  will  jet  bring  to  hear  his  voice.  For  there 
shall  be  one  fold  and  one  Shepherd,  and  all  nations  shall 
be  brought  to  acknowledge  that  he  alone  "  restoreth  onr 
Bouls,  and  leadeth  us  into  the  paths  of  righteousness  for 
his  name's  sake."  On  the  left  hand  of  the  hill,  as  I 
advanced  eastward,  and  immediately  under  its  declivity, 
extended  a  beautiful  tract  of  land  intersected  by  a  large 
arm  of  the  sea,  which  (as  the  tide  was  fast  flowing  in) 
formed  a  broad  lake  or  haven  of  three  miles  in  length. 
Woods,'  villages,  cottages,  and  churches,  surrounded  it 
in  most  pleasing  variety  of  prospect.  Beyond  this  lay  a 
large  fleet  of  ships  of  war,  and  not  far  from  it  another 
of  merchantmen,  both  safe  at  anchor,  and  covering  a 
tract  of  the  sea  of  several  miles  in  extent.  Beyond  this 
again,  I  saw  the  fortifications,  dock-yards,  and  extensive 
public  edifices  of  a  large  seaport  town.  The  sun  shone 
upon  the  windows  of  the  buildings  and  the  flags  of  the 
ships,  with  great  brightness,  and  added  much  to  the 
splendour  of  the  view. 

I  thought  of  the  concerns  of  empires,  the  plans  of  states- 
men, the  fate  of  nations,  and  the  horrors  of  war.  Happy 
will  be  that  day,  when  He  shall  make  wars  to  cease  unto 
the  end  of  the  earth,  and  peace  to  be  established  on  its 
borders  I 

In  the  mean  time,  let  us  be  thankful  for  those  vessels 
and  instruments  of  defence,  which,  in  the  hands  of  God, 
preserve  our  country  from  the  hand  of  the  enemy  and 
the  fury  of  the  destroyer.  What,  thought  I,  do  we  not 
owe  to  the  exertions  of  the  numerous  crews  on  board 
those  ships,  who  leave  their  homes  to  fight  their  country's 
battles,  affd  maintain  its  cause,  whilst  we  sit  every  man 
under  his  vine  and  fig-tree,  tasting  the  sweets  of  a  tran- 
quillity unknown  to  most  other  nations  in  these  days  of 
conflict  and  bloodshed ! 

On  my  right  hand,  to  the  south  and  ^outh-east,  the 
unbounded  ocean  displayed  its  mighty  waves.    It  was 


THE    NEGKO     SEKVANT.  125 

covered  v/itli  vessels  of  every  size,  sailing  in  all  direc- 
tions :  some  outward-bound  to  the  most  distant  parts  of 
the  world ;  others,  after  a  long  voyage,  returning  home, 
laden  with  the  produce  of  remote  climes :  some  going 
forth  in  search  of  the  enemy ;  others  sailing  back  to  port 
after  the  hard-fought  engagement,  and  bearing  the 
trophies  of  victory  in  the  prizes  which  accompanied 
them  home. 

At  the  south-west  of  the  spot  on  which  I  was  riding, 
extended  a  beautiful  semicircular  bay,  of  about  nine  or 
ten  miles  in  circumference,  bounded  by  high  cliffs  of 
white,  red,  and  brown-coloured  earths.  Beyond  this  lay 
a  range  of  hills,  whose  tops  are  often  buried  in  cloudy 
mists,  but  which  then  appeared  clear  and  distinct.  This 
chain  of  hills,  meeting  with  another  from  the  north, 
bounds  a  large  fruitful  vale,  whose  fields,  now  ripe  for 
harvest,  proclaimed  the  goodness  of  God  in  the  rich 
provision  which  he  makes  for  the  sons  of  men.  It  is  he 
who  "prepares  the  corn:  he  crowns  the  year  with  his 
goodness,  and  his  paths  drop  fatness.  They  drop  upon 
the  pastures  of  the  wilderness,  and  the  little  hills  rejoice 
on  every  side.  The  pastures  are  clothed  with  flocks ;  the 
vallies  also  are  covered  ^  over  with  corn :  they  shout  for 
joy,  they  also  sing." 

"  The  roving  sight 

Pursues  its  pleasing  course  o'er  neighbouring  hills 
Of  many  a  different  form  and  different  hue ; 
Bright  with  the  rip'ning  corn,  or  green  with  grass, 
Or  dark  with  clover's  purple  bloom." 

As  I  looked  upon  the  numerous  ships  moving  before 
me,  I  remembered  the  words  of  the  Psalmist :  "  They 
that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  that  do  business  in  great 
"waters :  these  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  his  wonders 
in  the  deep.  For  he  commandeth  and  raiseth  the  stormy 
wind,  which  lifteth  up  the  waves  thereof.  They  mount 
up  to  the  heaven,  they  go  down  again  to  the  depths; 


126  THE    NEGRO    SERVANT. 

their  soul  is  melted  because  of  trouble.  They  reel  to 
and  frO;  and  stagger  like  a  drunken  man^  and  are  at  their 
wit's  end.  Then  they  cry  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trouble, 
and  he  bringeth  them  out  of  their  distresses.  He  maketh 
the  storm  a  calm,  so  that  the  waves  thereof  are  still. 
Then  are  they  glad,  because  they  be  quiet :  so  he  bringeth 
them  unto  their  desired  haven.  O!  that  men  would 
praise  the  Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful 
works  to  the  children  of  men."     (Psalm  cvii.) 

The  Negro  Servant  then  occurred  to  my  mind.  Per- 
haps, thought  I,  some  of  these  ships  are  bound  to  Africa, 
in  quest  of  that  most  infamous  object  of  merchandise,  a 
cargo  of  black  slaves.  Inhuman  traffic  for  a  nation  that 
bears  the  name  of  Christian !  Perhaps  these  very  waves 
which  are  now  dashing  on  the  rocks  at  the  foot  of  this 
hill,  have,  on  the  shores  of  Africa,  borne  witness  to  the 
horrors  of  forced  separation  between  wives  and  husbands, 
parents  and  children,  torn  asunder  by  merciless  men, 
whose  hearts  have  been  hardened  against  the  common 
feeling  of  humanity  by  long  custom  in  this  cruel  trade. 
"  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy." 
When  shall  the  endeavours  of  that  truly  Christian /nenc? 
of  the  oppressed  negro  be  crowned  with  success,  in  the 
abolition  of  this  wicked  and  disgraceful  traffic  ?  * 

As  I  pursued  the  meditations  which  this  magnificent 
and  varied  scenery  excited  in  my  mind,  I  approached 
the  edge  of  a  tremendous  perpendicular  cliff,  with  which 
the  down  terminates ;  I  dismounted  from  my  horse,  and 
tied  it  to  a  bush.  The  breaking  of  the  waves  against 
the  foot  of  the  cliff  at  so  great  a  distance  beneath  me, 
produced  an  incessant  and  pleasing  murmur.  The  sea- 
gulls were  flying  between  the  top  of  the  cliff  where  I 

*  The  day  has  since  arrived,  when  the  persevering  eflforts  of  Mr.  Wilberforce, 
to  accomplish  this  happy  purpose,  have  been  fully  answered.  The  slave-trade 
IS  ABOLISHED.  Tho  church  of  God  rejoices  at  this  triumph  of  the  cause  of 
Christ  over  the  powers  of  darkness. 


THE     NEGEO    SERVANT.  127 

Stood,  and  tlie  rocks  below,  attending  iipon  tlieir  nest^ 
built  in  the  boles  of  tbe  cliff.  The  whole  scene,  in  every 
direction,  was  grand  and  impressive :  it  was  suitable  to 
devotion.  The  Creator  appeared  in  the  works  of  his 
creation,  and  called  upon  the  creature  to  honour  and 
adore.  To  the  believer,  this  exercise  is  doubly  delight- 
ful. He  possesses  a  right  to  the  enjoyments  of  nature 
and  Providence,  as  well  as  to  the  privileges  of  grace. 
His  title-deed  runs  thus :  ''All  things  are  yours;  whether 
Paul,  or  Apollos,  or  Cephas,  or  the  world,  or  things 
present,  or  things  to  come;  all  are  yours;  and  ye  are 
Christ's  and  Christ  is  God's." 

I  cast  my  eye  downwards  a  little  to  the  left  towards 
a  small  cove,  the  shore  of  which  consists  of  fine  hard 
sand.  It  is  surrounded  by  fragments'  of  rock,  chalk- 
cliffs,  and  steep  banks  of  broken  earth.  Shut  out  from 
human  intercourse  and  dwellings,  it  seems  formed  for 
retirement  and  contemplation.  On  one  of  these  rocks  I 
unexpectedly  observed  a  man  sitting  with  a  book,  which 
he  was  reading.  The  place  was  near  two  hundred  yards 
perpendicularly  below  me,  but  I  soon  discovered  by  his 
dress,  and  by  the  black  colour  of  his  features,  contrasted 
with  the  white  rocks  beside  him,  that  it  was  no  other 
than  my  negro  disciple,  with,  as  I  doubted  not,  a  Bible 
in  his  hand.  I  rejoiced  at  this  unlooked-for  opportunity 
of  meeting  him  in  so  solitary  and  interesting  a  situation. 
I  descended  a  steep  bank,  Avinding  by  a  kind  of  rude 
staircase,  formed  by  fishermen,  and  shepherds'  boys  in 
the  side  of  the  cliff  down  to  the  shore. 

He  was  intent  on  his  book,  and  did  not  perceive  me, 
till  I  approached  very  near  to  him. 

''William,  is  that  you?" 

"  Ah  1  Massa,  me  very  glad  to  see  you.  How  came 
Massa  into  dis  place  ?  Me  tought  nobody  here,  but  only 
God  and  me." 

"  I  was  coming  to  your  master's  house  to  see  you,  and 


128  THE     NEGRO    SERVANT. 

rode  round  by  this  way  for  the  sake  of  the  prospect.  I 
often  come  here  in  fine  weather,  to  look  at  the  sea  and 
the  shipping.     Is  that  your  Bible  ?  " 

"^es,  Sir ;  *  dis  my  dear  goot  Bible." 

"I  am  glad;"  said  I,  ''to  see  you  so  well  employed.  It 
is  a  good  sign,  William." 

"  Yes,  Massa,  a  sign  dat  God  is  goot  to  me ;  but  me 
never  goot  to  God." 

''How  so?" 

"  Me  never  tank  him  enough :  me  never  pray  to  him 
enough :  me  never  remember  enough,  who  give  me  all 
dese  goot  tings.  Massa,  me  afraid,  my  heart  is  very  bat. 
Me  wish  me  was  like  you." 

"  Like  me,  William  ?  Why,  you  are  like  me,  a  poor 
helpless  sinner,  that  must,  as  well  as  yourself,  perish  in 
his  sins,  unless  God,  of  his  infinite  mercy  and  grace, 
pluck  him  as  a  brand  from  the  burning,  and  make  him 
an  instance  of  distinguishing  love  and  favour.  There  is 
no  difference ;  we  have  both  come  short  of  the  glory  of 
God :  all  have  sinned." 

"  No,  me  not  like  you,  Massa :  me  tink  nobody  like 
me,  nobody  feel  such  a  heart  as  me." 

"  Yes,  William,  your  feelings,  I  am  persuaded,  are  like 
those  of  every  truly  convinced  soul,  who  sees  the  exceed- 
ing sinfulness  of  sin,  and  the  greatness  of  the  price  which 
Christ  Jesus  paid  for  the  sinner's  ransom.  You  can  say 
in  the  words  of  the  hymn, 

'I  the  chief  of  sinners  am, 
But  Jesus  died  for  me.'  " 

"  O  yes.  Sir,  me  believe  that  Jesus  die  for  poor  negro. 
What  would  become  of  poor  wicked  negro,  if  Christ  no 
die  for  him?  But  he  die  for  de  chief  of  sinners,  and 
dat  make  my  heart  sometime  quite  glad." 

*  In  the  course  of  conversation,  be  sometimes  addressed  mo  with  the  word 
"Massa,"  for  "  Master,"  according  to  the  well-known  habit  of  the  negro  slaves 
in  the  West  Indies  j  and  sometimes^  *'  Sir,"  as  he  was  taught  since  his  arrival 
in  England ;  but  the  former  word  seemed  to  be  most  familiar  to  him. 


THE    NEGRO    SERVANT.  129 

"  What  part  of  the  Bible  were  you  reading,  William?  " 

''  Me  read  how  de  man  upon  de  cross  spoke  to  Christ, 
and  Christ  spoke  to  him.  Now  dat  man's  prayer  just  do 
for  me:  'Lord,  remember  me.'  Lord,  remember  poor 
negro  sinner:  dis  is  my  prayer  every  morning,  and  some- 
time at  night  too ;  when  me  cannot  tink  of  many  words, 
den  me  say  de  same  again,  Lord,  remember  poor  negro 
sinner." 

"  And  be  assured,  William,  the  Lord  hears  that  prayer. 
He  pardoned  and  accepted  the  thief  upon  the  cross,  and 
he  will  not  reject  you;  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out  any 
that  come  to  him." 

"  Ko,  Sir,  I  believe  it ;  but  dere  is  so  much  sin  in  my 
heart,  it  make  me  afraid  and  sorry.  Massa,  do  you  see 
dese  limpets,  *  how  fast  dey  stick  to  de  rocks  here  ?  Just 
so,  sin  stick  fast  to  my  heart." 

''It  may  be  so,  William:  but  take  another  comparison: 
do  you  cleave  to  Jesus  Christ  by  faith  in  his  death  and 
righteousness,  as  those  limpets  cleave  to  the  rock,  and 
neither  seas  nor  storms  shall  separate  you  from  his  love." 

"Dat  is  just  what  me  want." 

"Tell,  me,  William,  is  not  that  very  sin  which  you 
speak  of,  a  burden  to  you?  You  do  not  love  it;  you 
would  be  glad  to  obtain  strength  against  it,  and  to  be 
freed  from  it ;  would  you  not  ?  " 

"  O  yes ;  me  give  all  dis  world,  if  me  had  it,  to  be 
without  sin." 

"  Come  then,  and  welcome,  to  Jesus  Christ,  my  brother; 
his  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  He  gave  himself  as  a 
ransom  for  sinners.  He  hath  borne  our  grief  and  carried 
our  sorrows.  He  was  wounded  for  our  transgressions ; 
he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities ;  the  chastisement  of 
our  peace  was  upon  him,  and  with  his  stripes  we  are 

*  A  kind  of  slicll-fish,  whicli  abound  in  the  place  where  we  were,  and  which 
stick  to  the  rocks  with  exceeding  great  force. 


130  THE     NEGRO     SERVANT. 

healed.  The  Lord  liatli  laid  on  liim  tlie  iniquity  of  us  all. 
Come,  freely  come  to  Jesus,  the  Saviour  of  sinners." 

"Yes,  Massa,"  said  the  poor  fellow,  weeping,  "me  will 
come:  but  me  come  very  slow;  very  slow,  Massa:  me 
want  to  run,  me  want  to  fly.  Jesus  is  very  goot  to  poor 
negro,  to  send  you  to  tell  him  all  dis." 

"  But  this  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  heard  these 
truths?" 

"No,  Sir,  dey  have  been  comfort  to  my  soul  many 
times,  since  me  hear  goot  minister  preach  in  America,  as 
me  tell  you  last  week  at  your  house." 

"  Well,  now  I  hope,  William,  that  since  God  has  been 
so  graciously  pleased  to  open  your  eyes,  and  affect  your 
mind  with  siich  a  great  sense  of  his  goodness,  in  giving 
his  Son  to  die  for  your  sake ;  I  hope  that  you  do  your 
endeavour  to  keep  his  commandments  ;  I  hope  you  strive 
to  behave  well  to  your  master  and  mistress,  and  fellow- 
servants.  He  that  is  a  Christian  inwardly,  will  be  a 
Christian  outwardly ;  he  that  truly  and  savingly  believes 
in  Christ,  will  show  his  faith  by  his  works,  as  the  Apostle 
says.     Is  it  not  so,  William  ? 

"  Yes,  Sir,  me  want  to  do  so.  Me  want  to  be  faithful. 
Me  sorry  to  tink  how  bat  servant  me  was,  before  de  goot 
tings  of  Jesus  Christ  come  to  my  heart.  Me  wish  to  do 
well  to  my  Massa,  when  he  see  me  and  when  he  not  see 
me;  for  me  know  God  always  see  me.  Me  know,  dat 
if  me  sin  against  mine  own  Massa,  me  sin  against  God, 
and  God  be  very  angry  with  me.  Beside,  how  can  me 
love  Christ,  if  me  do  not  what  Christ  tell  me  ?  Me  love 
my  fellow-servants,  dough  as  I  tell  you  before,  dey  do 
not  much  love  me,  and  I  pray  God  to  bless  dem.  And 
when  dey  say  bat  things,  and  try  to  make  me  angry,  den 
me  tink,  if  Jesus  Christ  were  in  poor  negro's  place,  he 
would  not  revile  and  answer  again  with  bat  words  and 
temper,  but  he  say  little,  and  pray  much.  And  so  den 
me  say  noting  at  all,  but  pray  God  to  forgive  dem." 


THE    NEGRO    SERVANT.  131 

The  more  I  conversed  with  this  African  convert,  the 
more  satisfactory  were  the  evidences  of  his  mind  being 
spiritually  enlightened,  and  his  heart  effectually  wrought 
upon  by  the  grace  of  God. 

The  circumstances  of  the  place  in  which  we  met 
together,  contributed  much  to  the  interesting  effect  which 
the  conversation  produced  on  my  mind.  The  little  cove 
or  bay  was  beautiful  in  the  extreme.  The  air  was  calm 
and  serene.  The  sun  shone,  but  we  were  sheltered  from 
its  rays  by  the  cliffs.  One  of  these  was  stupendously 
lofty  and  large.  It  was  white  as  snow :  its  summit  hung 
directly  over  our  heads.  The  sea-fowl  were  flying  around 
it.  Its  whiteness  was  occasionally  chequered  with  dark 
green  masses  of  samphire,  which  grew  there.  On  the 
other  side,  and  behind  us,  was  a  more  gradual  declivity 
of  many-coloured  earths,  interspersed  with  green  patches 
of  grass  and  bushes,  and  little  streams  of  water  trickling 
down  the  bank,  and  mingling  with  the  sea  at  the  bottom. 
At  our  feet  the  waves  were  advancini?  over  shelves  of 
rocks  covered  with  great  variety  of  sea-weeds,  which 
swam  in  little  fragments,  and  displayed  much  beauty  and 
elegance  of  form,  as  they  were  successively  thrown  upon 
the  sand. 

Ships  of  war  and  commerce  were  seen  at  different 
distances.  Fishermen  were  plying  their  trade  in  boats 
nearer  to  the  shore.  The  noise  of  the  flowing  tide,  com- 
bined with  the  voices  of  the  sea-gulls  over  our  heads, 
and  now  and  then  a  distant  gun  fired  from  the  ships  as 
they  passed  along,  added  much  to  the  peculiar  sensations 
to  which  the  scene  gave  birth.  Occasionally  the  striking 
of  oars  upon  the  waves,  accompanied  by  the  boatman's 
song,  met  the  ear.  The  sheep  aloft  upon  the  down  some- 
times mingled  their  bleatings  with  the  other  sounds. 
Thus  all  nature  seemed  to  unite  in  impressing  an  atten- 
tive observer's  heart  with  affecting  thoughts. 

I  remained  for  a  considerable   time    in   conversation 


132  THE    NEGRO    SERVANT. 

with  the  Kegro,  finding  that  his  master  was  gone  from 
home  for  the  day,  and  had  given  him  liberty  for  some 
hours.  I  spoke  to  him  on  the  nature,  duty,  and  privilege 
of  Christian  baptism ;  pointed  out  to  him  from  a  prayer- 
book  which  I  had  with  me,  the  clear  and  scriptural 
principles  of  our  own  church  upon  that  head,  and  found 
that  he  was  very  desirous  of  conforming  to  them.  He 
appeared  to  me  to  be  well  qualified  for  receiving  that 
sacramental  pledge  of  his  Eedeemer's  love ;  and  I  rejoiced 
in  the  prospect  of  beholding  him  no  longer  a  "  stranger 
and  foreigner,  but  a  fellow-citizen  with  the  saints,  and 
of  the  household  of  God." 

"•God,"  said  I  to  him,  "'has  promised  to  sprinkle 
many  nations,'  not  only  with  the  waters  of  baptism,  but 
also  with  the  dews  of  his  heavenly  grace.  He  says,  he 
will  not  only  'pour  water  on  him  that  is  thirsty,'  but,  'I 
will  pour  my  Spirit  upon  thy  seed,  and  my  blessing  upon 
thine  ofispring.' " 

"Yes,  Massa,"  said  he,  "he  can  make  me  to  be  clean 
in  heart,  and  of  a  right  spirit;  he  can  purge  me  with 
hyssop,  and  I  shall  be  clean :  he  can  wash  me,  and  I  shall 
be  whiter  dan  snow." 

"May  God  give  you  these  blessings,  and  confirm  you 
in  every  good  gift ! " 

I  was  much  pleased  with  the  affectionate  manner  in 
which  he  spoke  of  his  parents,  from  whom  he  had  been 
stolen  in  his  childhood :  and  his  wishes  that  God  might 
direct  them  by  some  means  to  the  knowledge  of  a 
Saviour. 

"  Who  knows,"  I  said,  "  but  some  of  these  ships  may 
be  carrying  a  missionary  to  the  country  where  they  live, 
to  declare  the  good  news  of  salvation  to  your  country- 
men, and  to  your  own  dear  parents  in  particular,  if  they 
are  yet  alive  ?  " 

"0!  my  dear  fader  and  moder:  my  dear  gracious 
Saviour,"  exclaimed  he,  leaping  from  the  ground  as  he 


TR^    NEGKO    SERVANT.  133 

spoke,  "if  clou  wilt  hnt  save  deir  souls,  and  tell  dem 
what  dou  hast  done  for  sinner — but — " 

He  stopped  and  seemed  mucli  affected. 

"My  friend,"  said  I,  "I  will  now  pray  with  you  for 
your  own  soul,  and  for  those  of  your  parents  also." 

"  Do,  Massa,  dat  is  very  goot  and  kind ;  do  pray  for 
poor  negro  souls  here  and  every  where." 

This  was  a  new  and  solemn  "  house  of  prayer."  The 
sea-sand  was  our  floor,  the  heavens  were  our  roof,  the 
cliffs,  the  rocks,  the  hills,  and  the  waves,  formed  the 
walls  of  our  chamber.  It  was  not  indeed  a  "  place  where 
prayer  was  wont  to  be  made;"  but  for  this  once  it 
became  a  hallowed  spot ;  it  will,  by  me,  ever  be  remem- 
bered as  such.  The  presence  of  God  was  there. — 1 
prayed. — The  Negro  wept.  —  His  heart  was  full.  I  felt 
with  him,  and  could  not  but  weep  likewise. 

The  last  day  will  show  whether  our  tears  were  not  the 
tears  of  sincerity  and  Christian  love. 

It  was  time  for  my  return ;  I  leaned  upon  his  arm,  as 
we  ascended  the  steep  cliff  in  my  way  back  to  my  horse, 
which  I  had  left  at  the  top  of  the  hill.  Humility  and 
thankfulness  were  marked  in  his  countenance.  I  leaned 
upon  his  arm  with  the  feelings  of  a  brother.  It  was  a 
relationship  I  was  happy  to  own. — I  took  him  by  the 
hand  at  parting,  appointed  one  more  interview  previous 
to  the  day  of  baptizing  him,  and  bid  him  farewell  for  the 
present. 

"God  bless  you,  my  dear  Massa." 

"And  you,  my  fellow  Christian,  for  ever  and  ever.'* 


12 


134  THE    NEGEO    SEKVANT. 


PABT   III. 

The  interesting  and  affecting  conversation  which  I 
had  with  the  Negro  Servant,  produced  a  sensation  not 
easy  to  be  expressed.  As  I  returned  home,  I  was  led 
into  meditation  on  the  singular  clearness  and  beauty  of 
those  evidences  of  faith  and  conversion  of  heart  to  God, 
which  I  had  just  seen  and  heard.  How  plainly,  I  thought, 
it  appears,  that  salvation  is  "freely  by  grace  through 
faith. ;  and  that  not  of  ourselves ;  it  is  the  gift  of  God ; 
not  of  works,  lest  any  man  should  boast."  What  but 
the  Holy  Spirit,  who  is  the  author  and  giver  of  the  life 
of  grace,  could  have  wrought  such  a  change  from  the 
once  dark,  perverse,  and  ignorant  heathen,  to  this  now 
convinced,  enlightened,  humble,  and  believing  Christian  ? 
How  manifestly  is  the  uncontrolled  sovereignty  of  the 
divine  will  exercised  in  the  calling  and  translating  of 
sinners  from  darkness  to  light  I  what  a  lesson  may  the 
nominal  Christian  of  a  civilized  country  sometimes  learn 
from  the  simple,  sincere  religion  of  a  converted  heathen  I 

I  afterwards  made  particular  inquiry  into  this  young 
man's  domestic  and  general  deportment.  Every  thing  I 
heard  was  satisfactory ;  nor  could  I  entertain  a  doubt 
respecting  the  consistency  of  his  conduct  and  character. 
I  had  some  further  conversations  with  him,  in  the  course 
of  which  I  pursued  such  a  plan  of  scriptural  instruction 
and  examination,  as  I  conceived  to  be  the  most  suitable 
to  his  progressive  state  of  mind.  He  improved  much  in 
reading,  carried  his  Bible  constantly  with  him,  and  took 
every  opportunity,  which  his  duty  to  his  master's  service 
would  allow,  for  perusing  it.  I  have  frequently  had 
occasion  to  observe,  that  amongst  the  truly  religious  poor, 
who  have  not  had  the  advantage  of  being  taught  to  read 
in  early  youth,  a  concern  about  the  soul,  and  a  desire  to 


THE    NEGEO     SERVANT.  135 

know  the  word  of  God,  have  proved  effectual  motives  for 
their  learning  to  read  with  great  ease  and  advantage  to 
themselves  and  others.     It  was  strikingly  so  in  the  pre 
sent  case. 

I  had,  for  a  considerable  time,  been  accustomed  to 
meet  some  serious  persons  once  a  week,  in  a  cottage  at 
no  great  distance  from  the  house  where  he  lived,  for  the 
purpose  of  religious  conversation,  instruction,  and  prayer. 
Having  found  these  occasions  remarkably  useful  and 
interesting,  I  thought  it  would  be  very  desirable  to  take 
the  JSTegro  there,  in  order  that  there  might  be  other  wit- 
nesses to  the  simplicity  and  sincerity  of  real  Christianity, 
as  exhibited  in  the  character  of  this  promising  young 
convert.  I  hoped  it  might  prove  an  eminent  mean  of 
grace  to  excite  and  quicken  the  spirit  of  prayer  and 
praise  amongst  some  of  my  parishioners,  over  whose 
spiritual  progress  I'  was  anxiously  watching. 

I  accordingly  obtained  his  master's  leave  that  he  should 
attend  me  to  one  of  my  cottage  assemblies.  His  master, 
who  was  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  extraordinary 
change  in  conduct  and  disposition,  which  religion  had 
produced  in  his  servant,  was .  pleased  with  my  attention 
to  him,  and  always  spoke  well  of  his  behaviour. 

I  set  out  on  the  day  appointed  for  the  interview.  The 
cottage  at  which  we  usually  assembled,  was  near  four 
miles  distance  from  my  own  residence :  my  road  lay 
along  the  foot  of  the  hill  mentioned  in  my  last  account 
of  the  Negro,  from  the  summit  of  which  so  luxuriant  a 
prospect  was  seen.  On  my  right  hand  the  steep  acclivity 
of  the  hill  intercepted  all  prospect,  except  that  of  numer- 
ous sheep  feeding  on  its  rich  and  plentiful  produce.  Here 
and  there  the  nearly  perpendicular  side  of  a  chalk-pit 
varied  the  surface  of  the  hill,  contrasting  a  dazzling 
white  to  the  sober  green  of  the  surrounding  bank. 

On  the  left  hand,  at  the  distance  of  near  half  a  mile, 
the  tide  flowed  from  the  sea  into  a  lake  or  haven  of  con- 


186  THE    NEGEO    SERVANT. 

siderable  length  and  breadth.  At  one  end  of  it,  fishing 
and  pilot  vessels  lay  at  anchor ;  at  the  other  appeared 
the  parish-chnrch  amongst  the  adjoining  woods  and 
fields.  The  bells  were  ringing ;  a  gently  swelling  sound 
was  brought  along  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  an  echo 
returned  from  a  prominent  part  of  the  hill,  beneath  which 
I  was  riding.     The  whole  scene  was  delightful. 

I  passed  some  rural  and  beautifully  situated  cottages, 
which  seemed  to  be  formed  as  fit  residences  for  peace  and 
tranquillity ;  each  was  surrounded  by  a  garden,  and  each 
had  a  little  orchard  or  field  adjacent,  where  the  husband- 
man's cow  enjoyed  her  own  pasture,  and  at  the  same 
time  prepared  rich  provision  for  her  owner's  family. 
Such  was  the  wise  and  considerate  allotment  which  the 
landlords  and  farmers  had  here  made  for  the  labouring 
poor.  The  wholesome  vegetable,  the  medicinal  herb, 
and  the  sweet-scented  flower,  intermingled  as  they  grew 
around  those  little  dwellings;  and  reminded  me,  as  I 
looked  upon  them,  how  comfortable  is  the  lot  of  the 
industrious  poor,  whose  hearts  have  learned  the  lesson 
of  gratitude,  in  the  school  of  heavenly  wisdom !  For 
them,  as  mercifully  as  for  their  richest  neighbour,  the 
sun  shines,  the  rain  descends,  the  earth  brings  forth  her 
increase,  the  flower  blossoms,  the  birds  sing ;  their  wants 
are  few,  and  contentment  makes  them  less.  How  great 
the  blessing  of  being  poor  in  this  world,  but  rich  in  faith, 
and  a  chosen  inheritance  in  a  better ! 

I  knew  that  this  was  the  character  of  some  whose 
humble,  but  neat  and  cleanly  cottages  I  passed.  A  few 
such  features  in  a  prospect  render  it  most  lovely.  Peace 
be  to  their  memory,  both  as  pilgrims  and  strangers  here ; 
and  as  ransomed  souls,  whom  I  hope  to  meet  in  glory 
hereafter  I 

The  house  to  which  I  was  travelling  was  situated  at 
the  corner  of  an  oak  wood,  which  screened  it  both  from 
the  burning  heat  of  summer  suns,  and  the  heavy  blasts 


THE    NEGRO    SERVANT.  137 

of  winter  soutli-west  storms.  As  I  approached  it,  I  saw 
my  friend  the  Negro  sitting  under  a  tree,  and  waiting 
my  arrival.  He  held  in  his  hand  a  little  tract  which  I 
had  given  him  ;  his  Bible  lay  on  the  ground.  He  rose 
with  much  cheerfulness,  saying,  ''Ah!  Massa,  me  very 
glad  to  see  you ;  me  tink  you  long  time  coming." 

"  "William,  I  hope  you  are  well.  I  am  going  to  take 
you  with  me  to  a  few  of  my  friends,  who,  I  trust,  are 
truly  sincere  in  their  religious  pursuits.  We  meet  every 
Wednesday  evening  for  conversation  about  the  things 
that  belong  to  our  everlasting  peace,  and  I  am  sure  you 
will  be  a  welcome  visitor." 

"Massa,  me  not  goot  enough  to  be  with  such  goot 
people.     Me  great  sinner.     Dey  be  goot  Christian." 

''If  you  were  to  ask  them,  William,  they  would  each 
tell  you  they  were  worse  than  others.  Many  of  them 
were  once,  and  that  not  very  long  ago,  living  in  an 
openly  sinful  manner,  ignorant  of  God  and  the  enemies 
of  Jesus  Christ  by  thought  and  deed.  But  divine  grace 
stopped  them  in  their  wicked  course,  and  subdued  their 
hearts  to  the  love  and  obedience  of  him  and  his  gospel. 
You  will  only  meet  a  company  of  poor  fellow -sinners, 
who  love  to  speak  and  sing  the  praises  of  redeeming 
love ;  and  I  am  sure,  William,  that  is  a  song  in  which 
you  will  be  willing  to  join  them." 

"O !  yes.  Sir,  dat  song  just  do  for  poor  Negro." 

By  this  time  we  had  arrived  at  the  cottage  garden  gute. 
Several  well-known  faces  appeared  in  and  near  the  house^ 
and  the  smile  of  affection  welcomed  us  as  we  entered.  It 
was  known  that  the  Negro  was  to  visit  the  little  society 
this  evening,  and  satisfaction  beamed  in  every  counte- 
nance, as  I  took  him  by  the  hand  and  introduced  him 
among  them,  saying,  "I  have  brought  a  brother  from 
Africa  to  see  you,  my  friends.  Bid  him  welcome  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

"  Sir,"  said  an  humble  and  pious  labourer,  whose  heart 

12 


138  THE     KEGEO     SEEVANT. 

and  tongue  always  overflowed  with  Christian  kindness, 
"  we  are  at  all  times  glad  to  see  our  dear  Minister,  but 
especially  so  to-day  in  such  company  as  you  have  brought 
with  you.  We  have  heard  how  merciful  the  Lord  has 
been  to  him.  Give  me  your  hand,  good  friend  (turning 
to  the  Negro.)  God  be  with  you  here  and  every  where ; 
and  blessed  be  his  holy  name  for  calling  sinners,  as  I 
nope  he  has  done  you  and  me,  to  love  and  serve  him  for 
nis  mercy's  sake." 

Each  one  greeted  him  as  he  came  into  the  house,  and 
some  addressed  him  in  very  kind  and  impressive  lan- 
guage. 

''Ma^a,"  said  he,  "me  not  know  what  to  say  to  all 
dese  goot  friends :  me  tink  dis  look  a  little  like  heaven 
apon  earth." 

He  then  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  which  almost,  before 
ne  spoke,  brought  responsive  drops  into  those  of  many 
present,  said,  ''  Goot  friends  and  bredren  in  Christ  Jesus, 
Got  bless  you  all,  and  bring  you  to  heaven  at  de  last." 

It  was  my  stated  custom,  when  I  met  to  converse  with 
those  cottagers,  to  begin  with  prayer  and  reading  a  por- 
tion of  the  Scriptures. 

When  this  was  ended,  I  told  the  people  present,  that 
the  providence  of  God  had  placed  this  young/ man  for  a 
time  under  my  ministry;  and  that,  finding  him  seriously 
disposed,  and  believing  him  to  be  very  sincere  in  his 
religious  profession,  I  had  resolved  on  baptizing  him 
agreeably  to  his  own  wishes.  I  added,  that  I  had  now 
brought  him  with  me  to  join  in  Christian  conversation 
with  us ;  for,  as,  in  old  times,  they  that  feared  the  Lord 
spake  often  one  to  another,  in  testimony  that  they 
thought  upon  his  name,  (Mai.  iii.  16,)  so  I  hoped  we 
were  fulfilling  a  Christian  and  brotherly  duty  in  thus 
assembling  for  mutual  edification. 

Addressing  myself  to  the  Negro,  I  said,  "William, 
tell  me  who  made  you  ?  " 


THE    NEGRO    SERVANT.  139 

''  Got,  de  goot  Fader." 

"  Who  redeemed  you  ?  " 

'' JesuS;  his  dear  Son,  who  died  for  me." 

"  Who  sanctified  yon  ?  " 

''The  Holy  Ghost,  who  teach  me  to  know  de  goot 
Fader,  and  his  dear  Son  Jesus." 

"  What  was  your  state  by  nature  ?  " 

"  Me  wicked  sinner,  me  know  noting  but  sin,  me  do 
noting  but  sin,  my  soul  more  black  dan  my  body." 

"  Has  any  change  taken  place  in  you  since  then  ?  " 

"  Me  hope  so,  Massa,  but  me  sometime  afraid  no." 

"  If  you  are  changed,  who  changed  you  ?  " 
'  Got  de  goot  Fader ;  Jesus  his  dear  Son ;  and  Got  de 
Holy  Spirit." 

"How  was  any  change  brought  about  in  you?" 

''Got  make  me  a  slave,  when  me  was  young  little 
boy." 

"How,  William,  would  you  say,  God  made  you  a 
slave?" 

"  No,  Massa,  no :  me  mean.  Got  let  me  be  made  slave 
by  white  men,  to  do  me  goot." 

"  How  to  do  you  good  ?  " 

"  He  take  me  from  de  land  of  darkness,  and  bring  me 
to  de  land  of  light." 

"Which  do  you  call  the  land  of  light ;  the  West  India 
Islands  ?  " 

"JSTo,  Massa,  dey  be  de  land  of  Providence,  but  America 
be  de  land  of  light  to  me ;  for  dere  me  first  hear  goot 
minister  preach.  And  now  dis  place  where  I  am  now, 
is  de  land  of  more  light ;  for  here  you  teach,  me  more  and 
more  and  more  how  goot  Jesus  is  to  sinners." 

"  What  does  the  blood  of  Christ  do  ?  " 

"Jt  cleanse  from  all  sin :  and  so  me  hope  from  my  sin." 

"  Are  then  all  men  cleansed  from  sin  by  his  blood  ?  " 

"  0  no,  Massa." 

"  Who  are  cleansed  and  saved  ?  " 


140  THE    NEGRO     SERVANT. 

"  Dose  dat  have  faith  in  him." 

"  Can  you  prove  that  out  of  the  Bible  ?  " 

'*Yes,  Sir:  'He  dat  believeth  on  de  Son,  hath  ever- 
lasting life ;  and  he  dat  believeth  not  de  Son,  shall  not 
see  life,  but  de  wrath  of  Got  abideth  on  him.'  "  (John 
iii.  36.) 

"  What  is  it  to  have  faith  ?  " 

"  Me  suppose  dat  it  is  to  tink  much  about  Jesus  Christ, 
to  love  him  much,  to  believe  all  he  says  to  be  true,  to 
pray  to  him  very  much ;  and  when  we  feel  very  weak 
and  very  sinful,  to  tink  dat  he  is  very  strong  and  very 
goot,  and  all  dat  for  my  sake." 

^'  And  have  you  such  a  faith  as  you  describe  ?  " 

"  0  Massa !  me  tink  sometime  me  have  no  faith  at  all." 

''Why  so,  William?" 

"When  me  want  to  tink  about  Jesus  Christ,  my  mind 
run  about  after  oder  tings :  when  me  want  to  love  him, 
my  heart  seem  quite  cold ;  when  me  want  to  believe  all 
to  be  true  what  he  says  to  sinners,  me  den  tink  it  is  not 
true  for  me :  when  me  want  to  pray,  de  devil  put  bat, 
very  bat  toughts  into  me,  and  me  never  tank  Christ 
enough.  I^ow  all  dis  make  me  sometime  afraid  I  have 
no  faith." 

I  observed  a  very  earnest  glow  of  attention  and  fellow- 
feeling  in  some  countenances  present,  as  he  spoke  these 
words.     I  then  said, 

"  I  think,  William,  I  can  prove  that  you  have  faith, 
notwithstanding  your  fears  to  the  contrary.  Answer  me 
a  few  more  questions. 

"Did  you  begin  to  think  yourself  a  great  sinner,  and 
to  feel  the  want  of  a  Saviour,  of  your  own  self)  and  by 
your  own  thought  and  doing  ?  " 

"  0 !  no ;  it  came  to  me,  when  me  tink  noting  about 
it,  and  seek  noting  about  it." 

"  Who  sent  the  good  minister  in  America  to  awaken 
vour  soul  by  his  preaching  ?  " 


THE    NEGRO     SERVANT.  141 

'Got,  very  certainly." 

''  Who  then  began  the  work  of  serious  thought  in  your 
mind?" 

"  De  goot  Got ;  me  could  not  do  it  of  myself,  me  sure 
of  dat." 

''  Do  you  not  think  that  Jesus  Christ  and  his  salvation 
is  the  one  thing  most  needful  and  most  desirable  ?  " 

''  0  !  yes,  me  quite  aure  of  dat." 

"Do  you  not  believe  that  he  is  able  to  save  you?" 

"Yes,  he  is  able  to  save  to  de  uttermost." 

''  Do  you  think  he  is  not  willing  to  save  you  ?  " 

''  Me  dare  not  say  dat.  He  so  goot,  so  merciful,  so 
kind,  to  say,  he  will  in  no  wise  cast  out  any  dat  come  to 
him." 

"  Do  you  wish,  and  desire,  and  strive  to  keep  his  com- 
mandments ?  " 

'^  Yes,  Massa,  because  me  love  him,  and  dat  make  me 
want  to  do  as  he  say." 

"  Are  you  willing  to  suffer  for  his  sake,  if  God  should 
call  you  to  do  so  ?  " 

''  Me  do  tink  me  could  die  for  de  love  of  him :  he  not 
tink  it  too  much  to  die  for  wicked  sinner ;  why  should 
wicked  sinner  tink  it  much  to  die  for  so  goot  and 
righteous  a  Saviour  ?  " 

"I  think  and  hope  I  may  say  to  you,  William,  thy 
faith  hath  made  thee  whole." 

Thus  ended  my  'examination  for  the  present.'  The 
other  friends  who  were  in  the  house  listened  with  the 
most  affectionate  anxiety  to  all  that  passed.  One  of  them 
observed,  not  without  evident  emotion, 

"  I  see.  Sir,  that  though  some  men  are  white,  and  some 
are  black,  true  Christianity  is  all  of  one  colour.  My 
own  heart  has  gone  with  this  good  man  every  word  he 
has  spoken." 

"  And  so  has  mine,"  gently  re-echoed  from  every  part 
of  the  room. 


142  THE    NEGRO     SERVANT. 

After  some  time  passed  in  more  general  conversation 
on  the  subject  of  the  Negro's  histor}^,  I  said,  ''Let  ns 
now  praise  God  for  the  rich  and  unspeakable  gift  of  his 
gracC;  and  sing  the  h jmn  of  redeeming  love : "  — 

Now  begin  the  heavenly  theme, 
Sing  aloud  in  Jesu's  name,  &c. 

which  was  accordingly  done.  Whatever  might  be  the 
merit  of  the  natural  voices,  it  was  evident  there  was 
spiritual  melody  in  all  their  hearts. 

The  Negro  was  not  much  used  to  our  way  of  singing, 
yet  joined   with   great   earnestness   and   affection,   that' 
showed  how  truly  he  felt  what  he  uttered.     When  the 
fifth  verse  was  ended. 

Nothing  brought  him  from  above, 
Nothing  but  redeeming  love  ; 

he  repeated  the  words,  almost  unconscious  where  he  was 
"No,  noting,  noting  but  redeeming  love,   bring  him 

down  to  poor  William  ;  noting  but  redeeming  love." 
The  following  verses  were  added,  and  sung  by  way  of 

conclusion :  — 

See,  a  stranger  comes  to  view ; 
Though  he's  black,*  he's  comely  too; 
Comes  to  join  the  choirs  above, 
Singing  of  redeeming  love. 
Welcome,  Negro,  welcome  here, 
Banish  doubt  and  banish  fear ; 
You,  who  Christ's  salvation  prove, 
Praise  and  bless  redeeming  love. 

T  concluded  with  some  remarks  on  the  nature  of  salva- 
tion by  grace,  exhorting  all  present  to  press  forward  in 
the  heavenly  journey.  It  was  an  evening,  the  circum- 
stances of  which,  had  they  never  been  recorded  on  earth, 
were  yet  doubtless  registered  in  the  book  of  remembrance 
aboTC. 

*  Song  of  Solomon,  i.  5. 


THE    NEGEO    SEEVANT.  143 

I  theji  fixed  the  day  for  tlie  baptism  of  the  NegrO;  and 
so  took  leave  of  my  little  affectionate  circle. 

The  moon  shone  bright  as  I  returned  home,  and  was 
beautifully  reflected  from  the  waters  of  the  lake :  har- 
mony and  repose  characterized  the  scene.  I  had  just 
been  uniting  in  the  praises  of  the  God  of  grace  and  provi- 
dence; and  now  the  God  of  nature  demanded  a  fresh 
tribute  of  thanksgiving  for  the  beauties  and  comforts  of 
creation :  as  David  sang,  "  When  I  consider  thy  heavens 
the  work  of  thy  fingers,  the  moon  and  the  stars  which 
thou  hast  ordained :  what  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful 
of  him,  or  the  son  of  man  that  thou  visitest  him  ? 

In  a  few  days  the  Negro  was  baptized ;  and  not  long 
after  went  on  a  voyage  with  his  master. 

Since  that  time  I  have  not  been  able  to  hear  any 
tidings  of  him :  whether  he  yet  wander  as  a  pilgrim  in 
this  lower  world,  or  whether  he  has  joined  the  heavenly 
choir  in  the  song  of  "  redeeming  love  "  in  glory,  I  know 
not.  This  I  do  know,  he  was  a  monument  to  the  Lord's 
praise.  He  bore  the  impression  of  the  Saviour's  image 
on  his  heart,  and  exhibited  the  marks  of  divine  grace  in 
his  life  and  conversation,  with  singular  simplicity  and 
unfeigned  sincerity. 

Give  to  God  the  glory. 


My  interviews  with  the  ISTegro  suggested  the  following 
lines,  which  are  here  subjoined,  under  the  title  of 

THE  NEGRO'S  PRAYER 

Jesus^  who  mak'st  the  meanest  soul 

An  object  of  thy  care, 
Attend  to  what  my  heart  would  speak — 

Hear  a  poor  Negro's  prayer. 


Mi  THE    NEGEO     SEE  VAN  T. 

For  thou,  when  bleeding  on  the  cross, 
My  sins  and  griefs  didst  bear ; 

Wherefore,  my  Lord,  thou  'It  not  refuse 
To  hear  the  Negro's  prayer. 

I  was  a  helpless  Negro  boy, 
•   That  wander'd  on  the  shore : 
Thieves  took  me  from  my  parents'  arma- 
They  saw  their  child  no  more. 

And  yet  the  lot  which  seem'd  so  hard, 
God's  faithfulness  did  prove ; 

For  I  was  carried  far  from  home, 
To  learn  a  Saviour's  love. 

Poor  and  despised  though  I  was, 
Thine  arm,  0  God  I  was  nigh  j 

And  when  thy  mercy  first  I  knew, 
Sure  none  so  glad  as  I. 

In  ign'rance  long  my  soul  had  dwelt, 

A  rebel  bold  I  'd  been  : 
But  thy  great  kindness,  0  my  God  I 

Sav'd  me  from  all  my  sin. 

Mine  was  a  wretched  state,  expos'd 
To  men  and  angels'  view ; 

A  slave  to  man,  a  slave  to  sin, 
A  slave  to  Satan  too. 

But  if  thy  Son  hath  made  me  free, 

Then  am  I  free  indeed  ; 
From  powers  of  darkness,  sin,  and  hell, 

Thy  love  my  soul  has  freed. 

Lord,  send  thy  word  to  that  far  land, 
Where  none  but  Negroes  live : 

Teach  them  the  way,  the  truth,  the  life, 
Which  thou  alone  canst  give. 

0  1  that  my  father,  mother  dear. 
Might  there  thy  mercy  see ; 

Tell  them  what  Christ  has  done  for  them. 
What  Christ  has  done  for  me. 


THE    NEGRO     SERVANT.  145 

Whose  God  is  like  the  Christian's  God  ? 

Who  can  with  him  compare  ? 
He  hath  compassion  on  my  soul, 

And  hears  a  Negro's  prayer. 

Lord  Jesus,  thou  hast  shed  thy  blood 

For  thousands  such  as  me  ; 
Though  some  despise  poor  Negro  slave, 

I'm  not  despised  by  thee. 

This  is  my  heart's  first  wish  below, 

To  prove  thy  constant  care : 
Keep  me  from  sin  and  danger.  Lord, 

And  hear  a  Negro's  prayer. 

In  heaven  the  land  of  glory  lies : 

If  I  should  enter  there, 
I  '11  tell  the  Saints  and  Angels  too, 

Thou  heard'st  a  Negro's  prayer. 


IS 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  147 


THE 

YOUNG   COTTAGER. 


PAKT   I. 

When  a  serious  Christian  turns  Ms  attention  to  the 
barren  state  of  the  wilderness  through  which  he  is  travel- 
ling, frequently  must  he  heave  a  sigh  for  the  sins  and 
sorrows  of  his  fellow-mortals.  The  renewed  heart  thirsts 
with  holj  desire,  that  the  Paradise  which  was  lost  through 
Adam,  may  be  fully  regained  in  Christ.  But  the  over- 
flowings of  sin  within  and  without,  the  contempt  of 
sacred  institutions,  the  carelessness  of  soul,  the  pride  of 
unbelief,  the  eagerness  of  sensual  appetite,  the  ambition 
for  worldly  greatness,  and  the  deep-rooted  enmity  of  the 
carnal  heart  against  God ;  these  things  are  as  ''  the  fiery 
serpents,  and  scorpions,  and  drought,"  which  distress  his 
soul,  as  he  journeys  through  ''that  great  and  terrible 
wilderness." 

Sometimes,  like  a  solitary  pilgrim,  he  "  weeps  in  secret 
places,"  and  "rivers  of  waters  run  down  his  eyes,  be- 
cause men  keep  not  the  law  of  God." 

Occasionally  he  meets  with  a  few  fellow-travellers, 
whose  spirit  is  congenial  with  his  own,  and  with  whom 
he  can  take  "sweet  counsel  together."  They  comfort 
and  strengthen  each  other  by  the  way.  Each  can  relate 
something  of  the  mercies  of  his  God,  and  how  kindly 
they  have  been  dealt  with,  as  they  travelled  onwards. 


148  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E. 

The  dreariness  of  the  path  is  thus  beguiled,  and  now  and 
then,  for  a  while,  happy  experiences  of  the  divine  conso- 
lations cheer  their  souls;  ''the  wilderness  and  the  solitary 
place  is  glad  for  them ;  the  desert  rejoices  and  blossoms 
as  the  rose." 

But  even  at  the  very  time  when  the  Christian  is  taught 
to  feel  the  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all  understanding, 
to  trust  that  he  is  personally  interested  in  the  blessings 
of  salvation,  and  to  believe  that  God  will  promote  his 
own  glory  by  glorifying  the  penitent  sinner ;  yet  sorrows 
will  mingle  with  his  comforts,  and  he  will  rejoice  not 
without  trembling,  when  he  reflects  on  the  state  of  other 
men.  The  anxieties  connected  with  earthly  relations 
are  all  alive  in  his  soul,  and,  through  the  operation  of 
the  Spirit  of  God,  become  sanctified  principles  and 
motives  for  action.  As  the  husband  and  father  of  a 
family,  as  the  neighbour  of  the  poor,  the  ignorant,  the 
wicked,  and  the  wretched;  above  all,  as  the  spiritual 
overseer  of  the  flock,  if  such  be  his  holy  calling,  the 
heart  which  has  been  taught  to  feel  for  its  own  case,  will 
abundantly  feel  for  others. 

But  when  he  attempts  to  devise  means  in  order  to  stem 
the  torrent  of  iniquity,  to  instruct  the  ignorant,  and  to 
convert  the  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  way,  he  cannot 
help  crying  out,  "  "Who  is  sufl&cient  for  these  things  ?  " 
Unbelief  pauses  over  the  question,  and  trembles.  But 
faith  quickly  revives  the  inquirer  with  the  cheering 
assurance,  that  "our  sufficiency  is  of  God,"  and  saith, 
"■  Commit  thy  way  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  shall  bring  it 
to  pass." 

When  he  is  thus  affectionately  engaged  for  the  good 
of  mankind,  he  will  become  seriously  impressed  with  the 
necessity  of  early  attentions  to  the  young  in  particular. 
Many  around  him  are  grown  gray-headed  in  sin,  and 
give  but  little  prospect  of  amendment.  Many  of  the 
parents  and  heads  of  families  arc  so  eagerly  busied  in 


THE    YOUKG    COTTAGE  E.  149 

the  profits,  pleasures,  and  occupations  of  the  world,  that 
they  heed  not  the  warning  voice  of  their  instructor. 
Many  of  their  elder  children  are  launching  out  into  life, 
headstrong,  unruly,  ''earthly,  sensual,  devilish ;"  they 
likewise  treat  the  wisdom  of  God,  as  if  it  were  foolish- 
ness. But,  under  these  discouragements,  we  may  often 
turn  with  hope  to  the  very  young,  to  the  little  ones  of 
the  flock,  and  endeavour  to  teach  them  to  sing  Hosannas 
to  the  Son  of  David,  before  their  minds  are  wholly 
absorbed  in  the  world  and  its  allurements.  "We  may 
trust  that  a  blessing  shall  attend  such  labours,  if  under- 
taken in  faith  and  simplicity,  and  that  some  at  least  of 
our  youthful  disciples,  like  Josiah,  while  they  are  yet 
young,  may  begin  to  seek  after  the.  God  of  their  fathers. 

Such  an  employment,  especially  when  blessed  by  any 
actual  instances  of  real  good  produced,  enlivens  the 
mind  with  hope,  and  fills  it  with  gratitude.  We  are 
thence  led  to  trust  that  the  next  generation  may  become 
more  fruitful  unto  God  than  the  present,  and  the  church 
of  Christ  be  replenished  with  many  such  as  have  been 
called  into  the  vineyard  ''  early  in  the  morning."  And 
should  our  endeavours  for  a  length  of  time  apparently 
fail  of  success,  yet  we  ought  not  to  despair.  Early 
impressions  and  convictions  of  conscience  have  sometimes 
lain  dormant  for  years,  and  at  last  revived  into  gracious 
existence  and  maturity.  It  was  not  said  in  vain,  "  Train 
up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  when  he  is  old 
he  will  not  depart  from  it." 

^Vhat  a  gratifying  occupation  is  it  to  an  affectionate 
mind,  even  in  a  way  of  nature,  to  walk  through  the 
fields,  and  lead  a  little  child  by  the  hand,  enjoying  his 
infantine  prattle,  and  striving  to  improve  the  time  by 
some  kind  word  of  instruction  I  I  wish  that  every 
Christian  pilgrim  in  the  way  of  grace,  as  he  walks 
through  the  Lord's  pastures,  would  try  to  lead  at  least 
one  little  child  by  the  hand ;  and  perhaps  while  he  is 


150  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

endeavouring  to  guide  and  preserve  liis  young  and  feeble 
companion,  the  Lord  will  recompense  liim  doulile  for  all 
his  careS;  by  comforting  his  own  heart  in  the  attempt 
The  experiment  is  worth  the  trial.  It  is  supported  by 
this  recollection:  "The  Lord  will  come  with  strong 
hand;  and  his  arm  shall  rule  for  him.  Behold  his  reward 
is  with  him,  and  his  work  before  him.  He  shall  feed  his 
flock  like  a  shepherd,  he  shall  gather  the  lambs  with  his 
arms,  and  carry  them  in  his  bosom,  and  shall  gently  lead 
those  that  are  with  young  J'' 

I  shall  plead  no  further  apology  for  introducing  to  the 
notice  of  my  readers  a  few  particulars  relative  to  a  young 
female  Cottager,  whose  memory  is  particularly  endeared 
to  me,  from  the  circumstance  of  her  being,  so  far  as  I  can 
trace  or  discover,  my  firstborn  spiritual  child  in  the 
ministry  of  the  gospel.  She  was  certainly  the  first,  of 
whose  conversion  to  God  under  my  own  pastoral  instruc- 
tion, I  can  speak  with  precision  and  assurance. 

Every  parent  of  a  family  knows  that  there  is  a  very 
interesting  emotion  of  heart  connected  with  the  birth  of 
his  firstborn  child.  Energies  and  affections  to  which  the 
mind  has  hitherto  been  almost  a  stranger,  begin  to  unfold 
themselves  and  expand  into  active  existence,  when  he 
first  is  hailed  as  a  father.  But  may  not  the  spiritual 
parent  be  allowed  the  possession  and  indulgence  of  a 
similar  sensation  in  his  connexion  with  the  children 
whom  the  Lord  gives  him,  as  begotten  through  the 
ministry  of  the  word  of  life?  If  the  firstborn  child  in 
nature  be  received  as  a  new  and  acceptable  blessii^g; 
how  much  more  so  the  firstborn  child  in  grace !  I  claim 
this  privilege;  and  crave  permission,  in  writing  Avhat 
follows,  to  erect  a  monumental  record,  sacred  to  the 
memory  of  a  dear  little  child,  who,  I  trust,  will  at  the 
last  day  prove  my  crown  of  rejoicing. 

Jane  S was  the  daughter  of  poor  parents,  in  the 

village  where  it  pleased  God  first  to  cast  my  lot  in  the 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  K.  151 

ministry.  My  acquaintance  with  lier  commenced,  when 
she  was  twelve  years  of  age,  by  her  weekly  attendance 
at  my  house  amongst  a  number  of  children  whom  I 
invited  and  regularly  instructed  every  Saturday  after- 
noon. 

They  used  to  read,  repeat  catechisms,  psalms,  hymns, 
and  portions  of  scripture.  I  accustomed  them  also  to 
pass  a  kind  of  free  conversational  examination,  accord- 
ing to  their  age  and  ability,  in  those  subjects  by  which  I 
hoped  to  see  them  made  wise  unto  salvation. 

On  the  summer  evenings  I  frequently  used  to  assemble 
this  little  group  out  of  doors  in  my  garden,  sitting  under 
the  shade  of  some  trees,  which  protected  us  from  the 
heat  of  the  sun.  From  hence  a  scene  appeared  which 
rendered  my  occupation  the  more  interesting :  for  adjoin- 
ing the  spot  where  we  sat,  and  only  separated  from  us 
by  a  fence,  was  the  church-yard,  surrounded  with  beau- 
tiful prospects  m  every  direction. 

There  lay  the  mortal  remains  of  thousands,  who  from 
age  to  age,  in  their  different  generations,  had  been  suc- 
cessively committed  to  the  grave,  "  earth  to  earth,  ashes 
to  ashes,  dust  to  dust."  Here  the  once-famed  ancestors 
of  the  rich,  and  the  less  known  forefathers  of  the  poor, 
lay  mingling  their  dust  together,  and  alike  waiting  the 
resurrection  from  the  dead. 

I  had  not  far  to  look  for  subjects  of  warning  and 
exhortation  suitable  to  my  little  flock  of  lambs  that  I 
was  feeding.  I  could  point  to  the  heaving  sods  that 
marked  the  different  graves,  and  separated  them  from  each 
other,  and  tell  my  pupils,  that,  young  as  they  were,  none 
of  them  were  too  young  to  die ;  and  that  probably  more 
than  half  of  the  bodies  which  were  buried  there,  were 
those  of  little  children.  I  hence  took  occasion  to  speak 
of  the  nature  and  value  of  a  soul,  and  to  ask  them  where 
they  expected  their  souls  to  go  when  they  departed  hence 
and  were  no  more  seen  on  earth. 


152  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

I  told  them  Avho  was  ''the  resurrection  and  the  life," 
and  who  alone  could  take  away  the  sting  of  death.  I 
used  to  remind  them  that  the  hour  was  "  coming,  in  the 
which  all  that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  his  voice,  and 
shall  come  forth;  they  that  have  done  good  unto  the 
resurrection  of  life;  and  they  that  have  done  evil  unto 
the  resurrection  of  damnation."  I  often  availed  myself 
of  these  opportunities  to  call  to  their  recollection  the 
more  recent  deaths  of  their  own  relatives,  that  lay  buried 
so  near  us.  Some  had  lost  a  parent,  others  a  brother  or 
sister;  some  perhaps  had  lost  all  these,  and  were  com- 
mitted to  the  mercy  of  their  neighbours,  as  fatherless 
and  motherless  orphans.  Such  circumstances  were  occa- 
sionally useful  to  excite  tender  emotions,  favourable  to 
serious  impression^ 

Sometimes,  I  sent  the  children  to  the  various  stones 
whicli  stood  at  the.  head  of  the  graves,  and  bid  them 
learn  the  epitaphs  inscribed  upon  them.  'I  took  pleasure 
in  seeing  the  little  ones  thus  dispersed  in  the  church- 
yard, each  committing  to  memory  a  few  verses  written 
in  commemoration  of  the  departed.  They  would  soon 
accomplish  the  desired  object,  and  eagerly  return  to  me 
ambitious  to  repeat  their  task. 

Thus  my  churchyard  became  a  book  of  instruction, 
and  every  grave-stone  a  leaf  of  edification  for  my  young 
disciples. 

The  church  itself  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  ground. 
It  was  a  spacious  antique  structure. 

Within  those  very  walls  I  first  proclaimed  the  message 
of  God  to  sinners.  As  these  children  surrounded  me,  I 
sometimes  pointed  to  the  church,  spoke  to  them  of  the 
nature  of  public  worship,  the  value  of  the  Sabbath,  the 
duty  of  regular  attendance  on  its  services,  and  urged 
their  serious  attention  to  the  means  of  grace.  I  showed 
them  the  sad  state  of  many  countries,  where  neither 
churches  nor  bibles  were  known;  and  the  no  less  melan- 


THE    YOUKG    COTTAGER.  153 

clioly  condition  of  multitudes  at  home,  who  sinfully 
neglect  worship,  and  slight  the  Word  of  God.  I  thus 
tried  to  make  them  sensible  of  their  own  favours  and 
privileges. 

Neither  was  I  at  a  loss  for  another  class  of  objects 
around  me,  from  which  I  could  draw  useful  instruction : 
for  many  of  the  beauties  of  created  nature  appeared  in 
view. 

Eastward  of  us  extended  a  large  river  or  lake  of  sea- 
water,  chiefly  formed  by  the  tide,  and  nearly  enclosed  by 
land.  Beyond  this  was  a  fine  bay  and  road  for  ships, 
filled  with  vessels  of  every  size,  from  the  small  sloop  or 
cutter  to  the  first-rate  man  of  war.  On  the  right  hand 
of  the  haven  rose  a  hill  of  peculiarly  beautiful  form  and 
considerable  height.  Its  verdure  was  very  rich,  and 
many  hundred  sheep  grazed  upon  its  sides  and  summit. 
From  the  opposite  shore  of  the  same  water  a  large 
sloping  extent  of  bank  was  diversified  with  fields,  woods, 
hedges,  and  cottages.  At  its  extremity  stand,  close  to 
the  edge  of  the  sea  itself,  the  remains  of  the  tower  of  an 
ancient  church,  still  preserved  as  a  sea-mark.  Far 
beyond  the  bay,  a  very  distant  shore  was  observable, 
and  land  beyond  it;  trees,  towns,  and  other  buildings, 
appeared,  more  especially  when  gilded  by  the  reflected 
rays  of  the  sun. 

To  the  south-westward  of  the  garden  was  another 
down  covered  also  with  flocks  of  sheep,  and  a  portion  of 
it  fringed  with  trees. 

At  the  foot  of  this  hill  lay  the  village,  a  part  of  which 
gradually  ascended  to  the  rising  ground  on  which  the 
church  stood. 

From  the  intermixture  of  houses  with  gardens,  orch- 
ards, and  trees,  it  presented  a  very  pleasing  aspect. 
Several  fields  adjoined  the  garden  on  the  east  and  north, 
where  a  number  of  cattle  were  pasturing.  My  own  little 
shrubberies   and  flower-beds  variegated  the  view,  and 


154  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

recompensed  my  toil  in  rearing  tliem,  as  well  by  their 
beauty  as  their  fragrance. 

Had  the  sweet  Psalmist  of  Israel  sat  in  this  spot,  lie 
would  have  glorified  God  the  Creator  by  descanting  on. 
these  his  handy  works.  I  cannot  write  psalms  like 
David ;  but  I  wish  in  my  own  poor  way  to  praise  the 
Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  to  show  forth  his  wonderful 
works  to  the  children  of  men.  But  had  David  been  also 
surrounded  with  a  troop  of  young  scholars  in  such  a 
situation,  he  would  once  more  have  said,  "  Out  of  the 
mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings  hast  thou  ordained 
strength." 

I  love  to  retrace  these  scenes — they  are  past,  but  the 
recollection-  is  sweet. 

I  love  to  retrace  them — for  they  bring  to  my  mind 
many  former  mercies,  which  ought  not,  for  the  Lord's 
sake,  to  be  forgotten. 

I  love  to  retrace  them — for  they  re-assure  me  that,  in 
the  course  of  that  private  ministerial  occupation,  God 
was  pleased  to  give  me  so  valuable  a  fruit  of  my  labours. 

Little  Jane  used  constantly  to  appear  on  these  weekly 
seasons  of  instruction.  I  made  no  very  particular  obser- 
vations concerning  her  during  the  first  twelve  months 
or  more  after  her  commencement  of  attendance.  She 
was  not  then  remarkable  for  any  peculiar  attainment. 
On  the  whole,  I  used  to  think  her  rather  more  slow  of 
apprehension  than  most  of  her  companions.  She  usually 
repeated  her  tasks  correctly,  but  seldom  was  able  to 
make  answers  to  questions  for  which  she  was  not  pre- 
viously prepared  with  replies — a  kind  of  extempore 
examination  in  which  some  of  the  children  excelled.  Her 
countenance  was  not  engaging,  her  eye  discovered  no 
remarkable  liveliness.  She  read  tolerably  well,  took 
pains,  and  improved  in  it. 

Mildness  and  quietness  marked  her  general  demeanour. 
She  was  verj*  constant  in  her  attendance  on  public  wor- 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  K.  155 

ship  at  the  cliurcli;  as  well  as  on  my  Saturday  iDstruction 
at  home.  But,  generally  speaking,  she  was  little  noticed, 
except  for  her  regular  and  orderly  conduct.  Had  I  then 
been  asked,  of  which  of  my  young  scholars  I  had  formed 
the  most  favourable  opinion,  poor  Jane  might  probably 
have  been  altogether  omitted  in  the  list. 

How  little  do  we  oftentimes  know  what  God  is  doing 
in  other  people's  hearts!  What  poor  calculators  and 
judges  we  frequently  prove,  till  he  opens  our  eyes !  His 
thoughts  are  not  our  thoughts ;  neither  are  our  ways  his 
ways. 

Once  indeed,  during  the  latter  part  of  that  year,  I  was 
struck  with  her  ready  attention  to  my  wishes.  I  had, 
agreeably  to  the  plan  above  mentioned,  sent  her  into  the 
churchyard  to  commit  to  memory  an  epitaph  which  I 
admired.  On  her  return  she  told  me,  that,  in  addition 
to  what  I  had  desired,  she  had  also  learned  another, 
which  was  inscribed  on  an  adjoining  stone ;  adding,  that 
she  thought  it  a  very  pretty  one. 

I  thought  so  too,  and  perhaps  my  readers  will  be  of 
the  same  opinion.  Little  Jane,  though  dead,  yet  shall 
ipeak.  While  I  transcribe  the  lines,  I  can  powerfully 
imagine  that  I  hear  her  voice  repeating  them ;  the  idea 
is  exceedingly  gratifying  to  me. 

EPITAPH  ON  MBS.  A.  B. 

Forgive,  blest  shade,  the  tributary  tear, 

That  mourns  thy  exit  from  a  world  like  this  ; 

Forgive  the  wish  that  would  have  kept  thee  here, 
And  stay'd  thy  progress  to  the  seats  of  bliss. 

No  more  confined  to  grov'ling  scenes  of  night, 

No  more  a  tenant  pent  in  mortal  clay, 
Now  should  we  rather  hail  thy  glorious  flight, 

And  trace  thy  journey  to  the  realms  of  day. 


156 


THE     YOUNG    COTTAGER. 


"  The  above  was  her  appointed  task;  and  the  other 
which  she  voluntarily  learned  and  spoke  of  with  pleasure, 
is  this : 

EPITAPH  ON  THE  STONE  ADJOINING. 

It  must  be  so —  Our  father  Adam's  fall 
And  disobedience,  brought  this  lot  on  all. 
All  die  in  him  —  But  hopeless  should  we  be, 
Blest  Revelation !  were  it  not  for  thee. 
Hail,  glorious  Gospel  1  heavenly  light,  whereby 
We  live  with  comfort,  and-with  comfort  die ; 
And  view  beyond  this  gloomy  scene,  the  tomb 
A  life  of  endless  happiness  to  come. 

I  afterwards  discovered  that  the  sentiment  expressed 
in  the  latter  epitaph  had  much  affected  her.  But  at  the 
period  of  this  little  incident,  I  knew  nothing  of  her  mind. 
I  had  comparatively  overlooked  her.  I  have  often  been 
sorry  for  it  since.  Conscience  seemed  to  rebuke  me, 
when  I  afterwards  discovered  what  the  Lord  had  been 
doing  for  her  soul,  as  if  I  had  neglected  her.  Yet  it  was 
not  done  designedly.  She  was  unknown  to  us  all ; 
except  that,  as  I  since  found  out,  her  regularity  and 
abstinence  from  the  sins  and  follies  of  her  young  equals 
in  age  and  station  brought  upon  her  many  taunts  and 
jeers  from  others,  which  she  bore  very  meekly.  But  at 
that  time  I  knew  it  not. 

I  was  young  myself  in  the  ministry,  and  younger  in 
Christian  experience.  My  parochial  plans  had  not  as 
yet  assumed  such  a  principle  of  practical  order  and 
inquiry,  as  to  make  me  acquainted  with  the  character 
and  conduct  of  each  family  and  individual  in  my  flock. 

I  was  then  quite  a  learner,  and  had  much  to  learn. 

And  what  am  I  now  ?  —  A  learner  still :  and  if  I  have 
learned  any  thing,  it  is  this,  that  I.  have  every  day  more 
and  more  yet  to  learn.  Of  this  I  am  certain ;  that  my 
young  scholar  soon  became  my  teacher.  I  first  saw  what 
true  religion  could  accomplish,  in  witnessing  her  expe- 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  B.  157 

rience  of  it.  The  Lord  once  "  called  a  little  child  unto 
him,  and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  his  disciples,"  as  an 
emblem  and  an  illustration  of  his  doctrine.  But  the 
Lord  did  more  in  the  case  of  little  Jane.  He  not  only 
called  her,  as  a  child,  to  show  by  a  similitude,  what 
conversion  means :  but  he  also  called  her  by  his  grace 
to  be  a  vessel  of  mercy  and  a  living  witness  of  that 
almighty  power  and  love  by  which  her  own  heart  was 
turned  to  God. 


PART    IL 

Theee  is  no  illustration  of  the  nature  and  character  of 
the  Redeemer's  kingdom  on  earth  which  is  more  grate- 
ful to  contemplation,  than  that  of  the  shepherd  and  his 
flock.  Imagination  has  been  accustomed  from  our 
earliest  childhood  to  wander  amongst  the  fabled  retreats 
of  the  Arcadian  shepherds.  We  have  probably  often 
delighted  ourselves  in  our  own  native  country,  by  wit- 
nessing the  interesting  occupation  of  the  pastoral  scene. 
The  shepherd,  tending  his  flock  on  the  side  of  some 
spacious  hill,  or  in  the  hollow  of  a  sequestered  valley : 
folding  them  at  night,  and  guarding  them  against  all 
danger ;  leading  them  from  one  pasture  to  another,  or  for 
refreshment  to  the  cooling  waters— these  objects  have 
met  and  gratified  our  eyes,  as  we  travelled  through  the 
fields,  and  sought  out  creation's  God  amidst  creation's 
beauties.  The  poet  and  the  painter  have  each  lent  their 
aid  to  cherish  our  delight  in  these  imaginations.  Many 
a  descriptive  verse  has  strengthened  our  attachment  to 
the  pastoral  scene,  and  many  a  well-wrought  picture  has 
occasioned  it  to  glow  like  a  reality  in  our  ideas. 

But  far  more  impressively  than  these  causes  can 
possibly  efiect,  has  the  Word  of  God  endeared  the  subject 
to  our  hearts,  and  sanctified  it  to  Christian  experience. 

14 


158  THE    YOFI^G    CO  TT  A  GEE. 

Who  does  not  look  back  witli  love  and  veneration  to 
those  days  of  holy  simplicity,  when  the  patriarchs  of  the 
church  of  God  lived  in  tents  and  watched  their  flocks  ? 
With  what  a  strength  and  beauty  of  allusion  do  the 
Prophets  refer  to  the  intercourse  between  the  shepherd 
and  flock  for  an  illustration  of  the  Saviour's  kingdom  on 
earth !  The  Psalmist  rejoiced  in  the  consideration  that 
the  Lord  was  his  Shepherd,  and  that  therefore  he 
should  not  want.  The  Eedeemer  himself  assumed  this 
interesting  title,  and  declared  that  "his  sheep  hear  his 
voice,  he  knows  them  and  they  follow  him,  and  he  gives 
unto  them  eternal  life." 

Perhaps  at  no  previous  moment  was  this  comparison 
ever  expressed  so  powerfully,  as  when  his  risen  Lord 
gave  the  pastoral  charge  to  the  lately  offending  but  now 
penitent  disciple,  saying,  '-  Feed  my  sheep."  Every 
principle  of  grace,  mercy,  and  peace,  met  together  on 
that  occasion.  Peter  had  thrice  denied  his  Master :  his 
Master  now  thrice  asked  him,  "  Lovest  thou  me  ?  "  Peter 
each  time  appealed  to  his  own,  or  to  his  Lord's  conscious- 
ness of  what  he  felt  within  his  heart.  As  often  Jesus 
committed  to  his  care  the  flock  which  he  had  purchased 
with  his  blood.  And  that  none  might  be  forgotten,  he 
not  ODly  said,  "Feed  my  sheep,"  but,  "Feed  my  lambs," 
also. 

May  every  instructor  of  the  young  keep  this  injunc- 
tion enforced  on  his  conscience  and  affections  I — I  return 
to  little  Jane . 

It  was  about  fifteen  months  from  the  first  period  of 
her  attendance  on  my  Saturday  school,  when  I  missed 
her  from  her  customary  place.  Two  or  three  weeks  had 
gone  by,  without  my  making  any  particular  enquiry 
respecting  her.  I  was  at  length  informed  that  she  wj^s 
not  well.  But,  apprehending  no  peculiar  cause  for  alarm, 
nearly  two  months  passed  away  without  any  further 
mention  of  her  name  being  made. 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  159       ' 

At  length  a  poor  old  woman  in  the  village,  of  whose 
religious  disposition  I  had  formed  a  good  opinion^  came 

and  said  to  me,  "  Sir,  have  you  not  missed  Jane  S 

at  your  house  on  Saturday  afternoons  ?  " 

'Yes,"  I  replied,  ''I  believe  she  is  not  well." 

''I^or  ever  will  be,  I  fear,"  said  the  woman. 

"  What !  do  you  apprehend  any  danger  in  the  case  ?  " 

"  Sir,  she  is  very  poorly  indeed,  and  I  think  is  in  a 
decline.  She  wants  to  see  you,  Sir;  but  is  afraid  you 
would  not  come  to  see  such  a  poor  young  child  as 
she  is." 

"Not  go,  where  poverty  and  sickness  may  call  me! 
how  can  she  imagine  so  ?  at  which  house  does  she  live  ?  " 

"Sir,  it  is  a  poor  place,  and  she  is  ashamed  to  ask  you 
to  come  there.  Her  near  neighbours  are  noisy,  wicked 
people,  and  her  own  father  and  mother  are  strange  folks. 
They  all  make  game  at  poor  Jenny,  because  she  reads 
her  Bible  so  much." 

"  Do  not  tell  me  about  poor  places,  and  wicked  people ; 
that  is  the  very  situation  where  a  Minister  of  the  gospel 
is  called  to  do  the  most  good.  I  shall  go  to  see  her ;  you 
may  let  her  know  my  intention." 

"I  will.  Sir;  I  go  in  most  days  to  speak  to  her,  and  it 
does  one's  heart  good  to  hear  her  talk." 

"  Indeed ! "  said  I :  "  what  does  she  talk  about  ?  " 

"Talk  about,  poor  thing!  why,  nothing  but  good 
things,  such  as  the  Bible,  and  Jesus  Christ,  and  life,  and 
death,  and  her  soul,  and  heaven,  and  hell,  and  your 
discourses,  and  the  books  you  used  to  teach  her,  Sir. 
Her  father  says  he'll  have  no  such  godly  doings  in  his 
house ;  and  her  own  mother  scoffs  at  her,  and  says  she 
supposes  Jenny  counts  herself  better  than  other  folks. 
But  she  does  not  mind  all  that.  She  will  read  her  books, 
and  then  talk  so  pretty  to  her  mother,  and  beg  that  she 
would  think  about  her  soul." 

""The  Lord  forgive  me,"   thought  I,   "for  not  being 


160  THE     YOUNG     COTTAGER. 

more  attentive  to  this  poor  child's  case."  I  seemed  to 
feel  the  importance  of  infantine  instruction  more  than 
ever  I  had  done  before,  and  felt  a  rising  hope  that  this 
girl  might  prove  a  kind  of  first  fruits  of  my  labours. 

I  now  recollected  her  quiet,  orderly,  diligent  attend- 
ance on  our  little  weekly  meetings;  and  her  marked 
approbation  of  the  epittiph,  as  related  in  my  last  paper, 
rushed  into  my  thoughts.  "I  hope,  I  really  hope,"  said 
I,  "  this  dear  child  will  prove  a  true  child  of  God.  And 
if  so,  what  a  mercy  to  her,  and  what  a  mercy  for  me ! " 

The   next   morning   I   went   to   see   the  child.     Her 
dwelling  was  of  the  humblest  kind.     It  stood  against  a 
high  bank  of  earth,  which  formed  a  sort  of  garden  behind 
it.     It  was  so  steep  that  but  little  would  grow  in  it ;  yet 
that  little  served  to  show  not  only,  on  the  one  hand,  the 
poverty  of  its  owners,  but  also  to  illustrate  the  happy 
truth,  that  even  in  the  worst  of  circumstances  the  Lord 
does  make  a  kind  provision  for  the  support  of  his  crea- 
tures.    The  front  aspect  of  the  cottage  was  chiefly  ren- 
dered  pleasing,    by   a   honeysuckle,  which  luxuriantly 
climbed  up  the  wall,  enclosing  the  door,  windows,  and 
even   the   chimney,   with   its  twining  branches.     As  I 
entered  the  house-door,  its  flowers  put  forth  a  very  sweet 
and  refreshing  smell.     Intent  on  tlie  object  of  my  visit, 
I  at  the  same  moment  offered  up  silent  prayer  to  God, 
and  entertained  a  hope,  that  the  welcome  fragrance  of 
the  shrub  might  be  illustrative   of  that   all-prevailing 
intercession  of  a  Eedeemer,  which  I  trusted  was,  in  the 
case  of  this  little  child,  as  "  a  sweet-smelling  savour "  to 
her  heavenly  Father.     The  very  flowers  and  leaves  of 
the  garden  and  field  are  emblematical  of  higher  things, 
when  grace  teaches  us  to  make  them  so. 

Jane  was  in  bed  up  stairs.  I  found  no  one  in  the 
house  with  her,  except  the  woman  who  had  brought  me 
the  message  on  the  evening  before.  The  instant  I  looked 
on  the  girl  I  perceived  a  very  marked  change  in  her 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  161 

countenance:  it  liad  acquired  the  consumptive  hue,  both 
white  and  red.  A  delicacy  unknown  to  it  before  quite 
surprised  me,  owing  to  the  alteration  it  produced  in  her 
look.  She  received  me  first  with  a  very  sweet  smile, 
and  then  instantly  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  just  sobbing 
out, 

"  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you.  Sir." 

"I  am  very  much  concerned  at  your  being  so  ill,  my 
child,  and  grieved  that  I  was  not  sooner  aware  of  your 
state.  But  I  hope  the  Lord  designs  it  for  your  good." 
Her  eye,  not  her  tongue,  powerfully  expressed,  "  I  hope 
and  think  he  does." 

"  Well,  my  poor  child,  since  you  can  no  longer  come 
to  see  me,  I  will  come  and  see  you,  and  we  will  talk  over 
the  subjects  which  I  have  been  used  to  explain  to  you." 

''  Indeed,  Sir,  I  shall  be  so  glad." 

' That  I  believe  she  will,"  said  the  woman;  ''for  she 
loves  to  talk  of  nothing  so  much  as  what  she  has  heard 
you  say  in  your  sermons,  and  in  the  books  you  have 
given  her." 

"  Are  you  really  desirous,  my  dear  child,  to  be  a  true 
Christian?" 

"O!  yes,  yes,  Sir;  I  am  sure  I  desire  that  above  all 
things." 

I  was  astonished  and  delighted  at  the  earnestness  and 
simplicity  with  which  she  spoke  these  words. 

''  Sir,"  added  she,  "  I  have  been  thinking  as  I  lay  on 
my  bed  for  many  weeks  past,  how  good  you  are  to 
instruct  us  poor  children ;  what  must  become  of  us  with- 
out it?" 

"I  am  truly  glad  to  perceive  that  my  instructions 
have  not  been  lost  upon  you,  and  pray  God  that  this 
your  present  sickness  may  be  an  instrument  of  blessing 
in  his  hands  to  prove,  humble,  and  sanctify  you.  My 
dear  child,  you  have  a  soul,  an  immortal  soul  to  think 
of;  you  remember  what  I  have  often  said  to  you  about 

14* 


162  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

the  value  of  a  soul :  '  What  would  it  profit  a  man  to 
gain  the  whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul  ? '  " 

''Yes,  Sir,  I  remember  well  you  told  us,^  that  when 
our  bodies  are  put  into  the  grave,  our  souls  will  then  go 
either  to  the  good  or  the  bad  place." 

"  And  to  which  of  these  places  do  you  think  that,  as  a 
sinner  in  the  sight  of  God,  you  deserve  to  go  ?  " 

''To  the  bad  one,  Sir." 

"  What,  to  everlasting  destruction  ?  " 

"Yes,  Sir." 

"Why  so?" 

"  Becanse  I  am  a  great  sinner." 

"  And  must  all  great  sinners  go  to  hell  ?  " 

"  They  all  deserve  it ;  and  I  am  sure  I  do." 

'  But  is  there  no  way  of  escape  ?  Is  there  no  way  for 
a  great  sinner  to  be  saved  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sir,  Christ  is  the  Saviour." 

"  And  whom  does  he  save  ?  " 

"All  believers." 

"And  do  you  believe  in  Christ  yourself?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  Sir :  I  wish  I  did ;  but  I  feel  that  I 
love  him." 

"  What  do  you  love  him  for  ?  " 

"Because  he  is  good  to  poor  children's  souls  like 
mine." 

"  What  has  he  done  for  you  ?  " 

"  He  died  for  me.  Sir ;  and  what  could  he  do  more  ?  " 

"  And  what  do  you  hope  to  gain  by  his  death  ?  " 

"A  good  place  when  I  die,  if  I  believe  in  him,  and 
love  him." 

"Have  you  felt  any  uneasiness  on  account  of  your 
soul?" 

'•  0 !  yes.  Sir,  a  great  deal.  When  you  used  to  talk  to 
us  children  on  Saturdays,  I  often  felt  as  if  I  could  hardly 
bear  it,  and  wondered  that  others  could  seem  so  careless. 
I  thought  I  was  not  fit  to  die.     I  thought  of  all  the  bad 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  K.  163 

things  I  had  ever  done  and  said,  and  believed  God  must 
be  very  angry  with  me ;  for  you  often  told  us,  that  God 
would  not  be  mocked ;  and  that  .Christ  said,  if  we  were 
not  converted  we  could  not  go  to  heaven.  Sometimes  I 
thought  I  was  so  young  it  did  not  signify:  and  then 
again  it  seemed  to  me  a  great  sin  to  think  so :  for  I  knew 
I  was  old  enough  to  see  what  was  right  and  what  was 
wrong ;  and  so  God  had  a  just  right  to  be  angry  when  I 
did  wrong.  Besides,  I  could  see  that  my  heart  was  not 
right :  and  how  could  such  a  heart  be  fit  for  heaven  ? 
Indeed,  Sir,  I  used  to  feel  very  uneasy." 

''  My  dear  Jenny,  I  wish  I  had  known  all  this  before. 
"Why  did  you  never  tell  me  about  it  ?  " 

"  Sir,  I  durst  not.  Indeed,  I  could  not  well  say  what 
was  the  matter  with  me :  and  I  thought  you  would  look 
upon  me  as  very  bold  if  I  had  spoke  about  myself  to 
such  a  gentleman  as  you :  yet  I  often  wished  that  you 
knew  what  I  felt  and  feared.  Sometimes,  as  we  went 
away  from  your  house,  I  could  not  help  crying ;  and  then 
the  other  children  laughed  and  jeered  at  me,  and  said  I 
was  going  to  be  very  good  they  supposed,  or  at  least  to 
make  people  think  so.  Sometimes,  Sir,  I  fancied  you 
did  not  think  so  well  of  me  as  of  the  rest,  and  that  hurt 
me ;  yet  I  knew  I  deserved  no  particular  favour,  because 
I  was  the  chief  of  sinners." 

^'  My  dear,  what  made  St.  Paul  say  he  was  the  chief 
of  sinners  ?  In  what  verse  of  the  Bible  do  you  find  this 
expression,  *  the  chief  of  sinners : '  can  you  repeat  it  ?  " 

'^  This  is  a  faithful  saying,  and  worthy  of  all  accepta- 
tion, that  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the  world  to  save  sin- 
ners :  — is  not  that  right.  Sir  ?  " 

''  Yes,  my  child,  it  is  right ;  and  I  hope  that  the  same 
conviction  which  St.  Paul  had  at  that  moment,  has  made 
you  sensible  of  the  same  truth.  Christ  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners;  my  dear  child,  remember  now 


164  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

and  for  evermore  that  Christ  came  into  the  world  to  save 
the  chief  of  sinners." 

"  Sir,  I  am  so  glad  he  did.  It  makes  me  hope  that  he 
will  save  me,  though  I  am  a  poor  sinful  girl.  Sir,  I  am 
very  ill,  and  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  get  well  again. 
I  want  to  go  to  Christ,  if  I  die." 

"  Go  to  Christ  while  you  live,  my  dear  child,  and  he 
will  not  cast  you  away  when  you  die.  He  that  said, 
'Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,'  Waits  to  be 
gracious  to  them,  and  forbids  them  not. 

"What  made  you  first  think  so  seriously  about  the 
state  of  your  soul  ?  " 

"Your  talking  about  the  graves  in  the  churchyard, 
and  telling  us  how  many  young  children  were  buried 
there.  I  remember  you  said,  one  day,  near  twelve 
months  ago,  '  Children !  where  will  you  be  an  hundred 
years  hence  ?  Children  !  where  do  you  think  you  shall 
go  when  you  die  ?  Children !  if  you  were  to  die  to- 
night, are  you  sure  you  should  go  to  Christ  and  be 
happy  ? '  Sir,  I  shall  never  forget  your  saying  '  Children,' 
three  times  together  in  that  solemn  way." 

"  Did  you  never  before  that  day  feel  any  desire  about 
your  soul ? " 

"  Yes,  Sir ;  I  think  I  first  had  that  desire  almost  as 
soon  as  you  began  to  teach  us  on  Saturday  afternoons ; 
but  on  that  day  I  felt  as  I  never  did  before.  I  shall 
never  forget  it.  All  the  way  as  I  went  home,  and  d^\ 
that  night,  those  words  were  in  my  thoughts :  '  Children ! 
where  do  you  think  you  shall  go,  when  you  die  ? '  I 
thought  I  must  leave  off  all  my  bad  ways,  or  where 
should  I  go  when  I  died?  " 

"  And  what  effect  did  these  thoughts  produce  in  your 
mind?" 

"Sir,  I  tried  to  live  better,  and  I  did  leave  off  many 
'-.ad  ways;  but  the  more  I  strove,  the  more  difiicult  I 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  165 

found  it,  my  heart  seemed  so  hard :  and  then  I  could  not 
tell  any  one  my  case." 

"Could  not  you  tell  it  to  the  Lord,  who  hears  and 
answers  prayer  ?  " 

"  My  prayers  (here  she  blushed  and  sighed)  are  very 
poor  at  the  best,  and  at  that  time  I  scarcely  knew  how 
to  pray  at  all,  as  I  ought.  But  I  did  sometimes  ask  the 
Lord  for  a  better  heart." 

There  was  a  character  in  all  this  conversation  which 
marked  a  truly  sincere  and  enlightened  state  of  mind. 
She  spoke  with  all  the  simplicity  of  a  child,  and  yet  the 
seriousness  of  a  Christian.  I  could  scarcely  persuade 
myself  that  she  was  the  same  girl  I  had  been  accustomed 
to  see  in  past  time.  Her  countenance  was  filled  with 
interesting  affections,  and  always  spoke  much  more  than 
her  tongue  could  utter.  At  the  same  time  she  now 
possessed  an  ease  and  liberty  in  speaking,  to  which  she 
had  formerly  been  a  stranger:  nevertheless  she  was 
modest,  humble,  and  unassuming.  Her  readiness  to 
converse  was  the  result  of  spiritual  anxiety,  not  childish 
forwardness.  The  marks  of  a  divine  change  were  too 
prominent  to  be  easily  mistaken ;  and  in  this  very  child, 
I,  for  the  first  time,  witnessed  the  evident  testimonies  of 
such  a  change.  How  encouraging,  how  profitable  to  my 
own  soul ! 

''Sir,"  continued  little  Jane,  "I  had  one  day  been 
thinking  that  I  was  neither  fit  to  live  nor  die :  for  I  could 
find  no  comfort  in  this  world,  and  I  was  sure  I  deserved 
none  in  the  other.     On  that  day  you  sent  me  to  learn 

the  verse  on  Mrs.  B 's  headstone,   and  then  I  read 

that  on  the  one  next  to  it." 

"  I  very  well  remember  it,  Jenny ;  you  came  back, 
and  repeated  them  both  to  me." 

"There  were  two  lines  in  it  which  made  me  think 
and  meditate  a  great  deal." 

"Which  were  they?" 


166  THE     YOUNG    COTTAGEE. 

Hail,  glorious  Gospel,  heavenly  liglit,  whereby 
We  live  with  comfort,  and  with  comfort  die." 

I  wished  that  glorious  gospel  was  mine;  that  I  might 
live  and  die  with  comfort ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  I  thought 
it  would  be  so.  I  never  felt  so  happy  in  all  my  life 
before.     The  words  were  often  in  my  thoughts, 

*  Live  with  comfort,  and  with  comfort  die.' 

'Glorious  gospel'  indeed!  I  thought. 

"  My  dear  child,  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  word 
gospel  ?  " 

^'Good  news." 

"  Good  news  for  whom  ?  " 

"  For  wicked  sinners,  Sir." 

"  Who  sends  this  good  news  for  wicked  sinners  ?" 

^' The  Lord  Almighty..' 

''  And  who  brings  this  good  news  ?  " 

"  Sir,  you  brought  it  to  we." 

Here  my  soul  melted  in  an  instant,  and  I  could  not 
repress  the  tears  which  the  emotion  excited.  The  last 
answer  was  equally  unexpected  and  affecting.  I  felt  a 
father's  tenderness  and  gratitude  for  a  new  and  firstborn 
child. 

Jane  wept  likewise. 

After  a  little  pause  she  said, 

'  0  Sir  I  I  wish  you  would  speak  to  my  father,  and 
mother,  and  little  brother ;  for  I  am  afraid  they  are  going 
on  very  badly. 

"How  so?" 

"  Sir,  they  drink,  and  swear,  and  quarrel,  and  do  not 
like  what  is  good :  and  it  does  grieve  me  so,  I  cannot 
bear  it.  If  I  speak  a  word  to  them  about  it,  they  are 
very  angry,  and  laugh,  and  bid  me  be  quiet,  and  not  set 
up  for  their  teacher.  Sir,  I  am  ashamed  to  tell  you  this 
of  them,  but  I  hope  it  is  not  wrong ;  I  mean  it  for  their 
good." 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  167 

"  I  wish  your  prayers  and  endeavours  for  tlieir  sake 
may  be  blessed :  I  will  also  do  what  I  can." 

I  then  prayed  with  the  child,  and  promised  to  visit  her 
constantly. 

As  I  returned  home,  my  heart  was  filled  with  thank- 
fulness for  what  I  had  seen  and  heard.  Little  Jane 
appeared  to  be  a  first  fruits  of  my  parochial  and  spiritual 
harvest.  This  thought  greatly  comforted  and  strength- 
ened me  in  my  ministerial  prospects. 

My  partiality  to  the  memory  of  little  Jane  will  pro- 
bably induce  me  to  lay  some  further  particulars  before 
the  reader. 


PART    III. 

Divine  grace  educates  the  reasoning  faculties  of  the  soul, 
as  well  as  the  best  affections  of  the  heart ;  and  happily 
consecrates  them  both  to  the  glory  of  the  Redeemer. 
Neither  the  disadvantages  of  poverty  nor  the  inexpe- 
rience of  childhood  are  barriers  able  to  resist  the  mighty 
influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  when  "he  goeth  forth 
where  he  listeth."  —  ''God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things 
of  this  world  to  confound  the  wise  ;  and  God  hath  chosen 
the  weak  things  of  the  world,  to  confound  the  things 
which  are  mighty."  The  truth  of  this  scriptural  asser- 
tion was  peculiarly  evident  in  the  case  of  my  young 
parishioner. 

Little  Jane's  illness  was  of  a  lingering  nature.  I  often 
visited  her.  The  soul  of  this  young  Christian  was 
gradually,  but  effectually,  preparing  for  heaven.  I  have 
seldom  witnessed  in  any  older  person,  under  similar 
circumstances,  stronger  marks  of  earnest  enquiry,  con- 
tinual seriousness,  and  holy  affections.  One  morning,  as 
I  was  walking  through  the  churchyard,  in  my  way  to 
visit  her,  I  stopped  to  look  at  the  cpitapli  which  had 


168  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGEE. 

made  such  a  deep  impression  on  her  mind.  I  was  struck 
with  the  reflection  of  the  important  consequences  which 
might  result  from  a  more  frequent  and  judicious  atten- 
tion to  the  inscriptions  placed  in  our  burying-grounds, 
as  memorials  of  the  departed.  The  idea  occurred  to  my 
thoughts;  that  as  the  two  stone  tables  given  by  God  to 
Moses  were  once  a  mean  of  communicating  to  the  Jews 
from  age  to  age,  the  reyelation  of  God's  will  as  concern- 
ing the  law ;  so  these  funeral  tables  of  stone  may,  under 
a  better  dispensation,  bear  a  never-failing  proclamation 
of  God's  good-will  to  sinners  as  revealed  in  the  gospel 
of  his  grace,  from  generation  to  generation.  I  have 
often  lamented,  when  indulging  a  contemplation  among 
the  graves,  that  some  of  the  inscriptions  were  coarse  and 
ridiculous ;  others,  absurdly  flattering ;  many,  expressive 
of  sentiments  at  variance  with  the  true  principles  of  the 
word  of  God;  not  a  few,  barren  and  unaccompanied 
with  a  single  word  of  useful  instruction  to  the  reader. 
Thus  a  very  important  opportunity  of  conveying  scrip- 
tural admonition  is  lost.  I  wish  that  every  grave-stone 
might  not  only  record  the  names  of  our  deceased  friends, 
but  also  proclaim  the  name  of  Jesus,  as  the  only  name 
given  under  heaven,  whereby  men  can  be  saved.  Per- 
haps, if  the  Ministers  of  religion  were  to  interest  them- 
selves in  this  manner,  and  accustom  their  people  to 
consult  them  as  to  the  nature  of  the  monumental  inscrip- 
tions which  they  wish  to  introduce  into  churches  and 
churchyards,  a  gradual  improvement  would  take  place 
in  this  respect.  What  is  offensive,  useless,  or  erroneous, 
would  no  longer  find  admittance,  and  a  succession  of 
valuable  warning  and  consolation  to  the  living  would 
perpetuate  the  memory  of  the  dead. 

What  can  be  more  disgusting  than  the  too  common 
spectacle  of  trifling,  licentious  travellers,  wandering  about 
the  churchyards  of  the  different  places  through  which 
they  pass,  in  search  of  rade,  ungrararaatical,  ill-spelt,  and 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  169 

absurd  verses  among  the  grave-stones :  and  this  for  the 
gratification  of  their  unholy  scorn  and  ridicule !  And 
yet  how  much  is  it  to  be  deplored  that  such  persons  are 
seldom  disappointed  in  finding  many  instances  which  too 
readily  afford  them  the  unfeeling  satisfaction  which  they 
seek !  I  therefore  offer  this  suggestion  to  my  reverend 
brethren,  that  as  no  monument  or  stone  can  be  placed  in 
a  church  ot  churchyard  without  their  express  consent  or 
approbation,  whether  one  condition  of  that  consent  being 
granted,  should  not  be  a  previous  inspection  and  approval 
of  every  inscription  which  may  be  so  placed  within  the 
precincts  of  the  sanctuary. 

The  reader  will  pardon  this  digression,  which  evidently 
arose  from  the  peculiar  connexion  established  in  little 
Jane's  history,  between  an  epitaph  inscribed  on  a  grave- 
stone, and  the  word  of  God  inscribed  on  her  heart. 
When  I  arrived  at  Jane's  cottage,  I  found  her  in  bed, 
reading  Dr.  Watts's  Hymns  for  Children,  in  which  she 
took  great  pleasure. 

''  What  are  you  reading  this  morning,  fane  ?  " 
''Sir,  I  have  been  thinking  very  much  about  some 
verses  in  my  little  book.  —  Here  they  are : 

*  There  is  an  hour  when  I  must  die, 

Nor  do  I  know  how  soon  'twill  come : 
A  thousand  children  young  as  I, 

Are  called  by  death  to  hear  their  doom. 

'Let  me  improve  the  hours  I  have, 
Before  the  day  of  grace  is  fled ; 
There's  no  repentance  in  the  grave, 
Nor  pardon  ofFer'd  to  the  dead.' 

"  Sir,  I  feel  all  that  to  be  very  true,  and  I  am  afraid  I 
do  not  improve  the  hours  I  have  as  I  ought  to  do.  I 
think  I  shall  not  live  very  long ;  and  when  I  remember 
my  sins,  I  say, 

15 


170  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

'  Lord,  at  thy  foot,  asham'd  I  lie, 

Upward  I  dare  not  look ; 
Pardon  my  sins  before  I  die, 

And  blot  them  from  thy  book.' 

Do  you  think  he  loill  pardon  me,  Sir  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  I  have  great  hopes  that  he  HAS  par- 
doned you :  that  he  has  heard  your  prayers,  and  put  you 
into  the  number  of  his  true  children  already.  You  have 
had  strong  proofs  of  his  mercy  to  your  soul." 

'  Yes,  Sir,  I  have ;  and  I  wish  to  love  and  bless  him 
for  it.     He  is  good,  very  good." 

It  had  for  some  time  past  occurred  to  my  mind,  that  a 
course  of  regulated  conversations  on  the  first  principles 
of  religion,  would  be  very  desirable  from  time  to  time, 
for  this  interesting  child's  sake;  and  I  thought  the 
Church  Catechism  would  be  the  best  groundwork  for 
that  purpose. 

"  Jenny,"  said  I,   "  you  can  repeat  the  Catechism  ?  " 

"Yes,  Sir;  but  I  think  that  has  been  one  of  my  sins 
in  the  sight  of  God." 

"  What !  repeating  your  Catechism  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sir,  in  such  a  way  as  I  used  to  do  it." 

"How  was  that?" 

"  Yery  carelessly  indeed.     I  never  thought  about  tho 
meaning  of  the  words,  and  that  must  be  very  wrong. 
Sir,  the  Catechism  is  full  of  good  things ;  I  wish  I  under 
stood  them  better." 

"  Well  then,  my  child,  we  will  talk  a  little  about  those 
good  things  which,  as  you  truly  say,  are  contained  in 
the  Catechism.  Did  you  ever  consider  what  it  is  to  be 
a  member  of  Christ,  a  child  of  Cod,  and  an  inheritor  of 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  ?  " 

"I  think.  Sir,  I  have  lately  considered  it  a  good  deal; 
and  I  want  to  be  such,  not  only  in  name,  but  in  deed 
and  in  truth.  You  once  told  me,  Sir,  that,  ^as  the 
branch  is  to  tho  vine,  and  the  stone  to  the  building,  and 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  171 

the  limb  to  the  body  and  the  head,  so  is  a  true  believer, 
to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  But  how  am  I  to  know  that 
I  belong  to  Christ  as  a  true  memher,  which  you  said  one 
day  in  the  church,  means  the  same  as  a  limb  of  the  body, 
such  as  a  leg  or  an  arm  ?  " 

''Do  you  love  Christ  now  in  a  way  you  never  used  to 
do  before  ?  " 

''  Yes,  I  think  so  indeed." 

"  Why  do  you  love  him  ?  " 

"  Because  he  first  loved  me." 

''  How  do  you  know  that  he  first  loved  you  ?  " 

''Because  he  sent  me  instruction,  and  made  me  feel 
the  sin  of  my  hearty  and  taught  me  to  pray  for  pardon, 
and  love  his  ways :  he  sent  you  to  teach  me.  Sir,  and  to 
show  me  the  way  to  be  saved ;  and  now  I  want  to  be 
saved  in  that  way  that  he  pleases.  Sometimes  I  feel  as 
if  I  loved  all  that  he  has  said  and  done,  so  much,  that  I 
wish  never  to  think  about  any  thing  else.  I  know  I  did 
not  use  to  feel  so ;  and  I  think  if  he  had  not  loved  me 
first,  my  wicked  heart  would  never  have  cared  about 
him.  I  once  loved  any  thing  better  than  religion,  but 
now  it  is  every  thing  to  me." 

"  Do  you  believe  in  your  heart  that  Christ  is  able  and 
willing  to  save  the  chief  of  sinners  ?  " 

"I  do." 

"  And  what  are  you  ?  " 

"  A  young,  but  a  great  sinner." 

"  Is  it  not  of  his  mercv  that  you  know  and  feel  your- 
self to  be  a  sinner  ?  " 

"  Certainly ;  yes,  it  must  be  so." 

''  Do  you  earnestly  desire  to  forsake  all  sin  ?  " 

*'  If  I  know  myself,  I  do." 

''  Do  you  feel  a  spirit  within  you,  resisting  sin,  and 
making  you  hate  it  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  hope  so." 

"  Who  gave  you  that  spirit  ?  were  you  always  so  ?  " 


172  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  K. 

"It  must  be  Christ,  wlio  loved  me,  and  gave  himsel/ 
for  me.     I  was  quite  different  once." 

"Now  then,  my  dear  Jane,  does  not  all  this  show  a 
connexion  between  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  and  your  soul  ? 
Does  it  not  seem,  as  if  you  lived,  and  moved,  and  had  a 
spiritual  being  from  him?  Just  as  a  limb  is  connected 
with  your  body,  and  so  with  your  head,  and  thereby  gets 
power  to  live  and  move  through  the  flowing  of  the  blood 
from  one  to  the  other :  so  are  you  spiritually  a  limb  or 
member  of  Christ,  if  you  believe  in  him;  and  thus 
obtain,  through  faith,  a  power  to  love  him,  and  live  to 
his  praise  and  glory.     Do  you  understand  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Sir,  I  believe  I  do ;  and  it^  is  very  comfortable 
to  my  thoughts  to  look  up  to  Christ  as  a  living  head, 
and  to  consider  myself  as  the  least  and  lowest  of  all  his 
members." 

"  Now,  tell  me  what  your  thoughts  are  as  to  being  a 
child  of  God." 

"I  am  sure.  Sir,  I  do  not  deserve  to  be  called  his 
child." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  who  does  deserve  it  ?  " 

''Not  one.  Sir." 

"  How  then  comes  any  one  to  be  a  child  of  God,  when 
by  nature  we  are  all  children  of  wrath  ?  " 

"By  God's  grace.  Sir." 

"  What  does  grace  mean  ?  " 

"  Favour ;  free  favour  to  sinners." 

"  Eight ;  and  what  does  God  bestow  upon  the  children 
of  wrath,  when  he  makes  them  children  of  grace  ?  " 

"  A  death  unto  sin,  and  a  new  birth  unto  righteous- 
ness ;  is  it  not,  Sir  ?  " 

"  Yes,  this  is  the  fruit  of  Christ's  redeeming  love :  and 
I  hope  you  are  a  partaker  of  the  blessing.  The  family 
of  God  is  named  after  him,  and  he  is  the  first-born  of 
many  brethren.  What  a  mercy  that  Christ  calls  himself 
'  a  brother  / '    My  little  girl,  he  is  your  brother ;  and  will 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  173 

not  be  ashamed  to  own  you,  and  present  yon  to  his 
Father  at  the  last  day,  as  one  that  he  has  purchased  with 
his  blood." 

"I  wish  I  could  love  my  Father  and  my  Brother 
which  are  in  heaven,  better  than  I  do.  Lord  be  merciful 
to  me  a  sinner !  I  think,  Sir,  if  I  am  a  child  of  God,  I 
am  often  a  rebellious  one.  He  shows  kindness  to  me 
beyond  others,  and  yet  I  make  a  very  poor  return. 

"  Are  these  thy  favours,  day  by  day, 
To  me  above  the  rest  ? 
Then  let  me  love  thee  more  than  they, 
And  strive  to  serve  thee  best.'  " 

"  That  will  be  the  best  way  to  approve  yourself  a  real 
child  of  Grod.  Show  your  love  and  thankfulness  to  such 
a  Father,  who  hath  prepared  for  you  an  inheritance 
among  the  saints  in  light,  and  made  you  '  an  inheritor 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  as  well  as  a  member  of  Christ, 
and  a  child  of  God.'  Do  you  know  what  '  the  kingdom 
of  heaven '  means  ?  '* 

Just  at  that  instant,  her  mother  entered  the  house 
below,  and  began  to  speak  to  a  younger  child  in  a  pas- 
sionate, scolding  tone  of  voice,  accompanied  by  some 
very  offensive  language  ;  but  quickly  stopped  on  hearing 
Us  in  conversation  up  stairs.        » 

"  Ah,  my  poor  mother  I "  said  the  girl,  "  you  would 

not  have  stopped  so  short,  if  Mr. had  not  been  here. 

Sir,  you  hear  how  my  mother  swears ;  pray  say  some- 
thing to  her ;  she  will  not  hear  me." 

I  went  towards  the  stair-head,  and  called  to  the  woman ; 
but  ashamed  at  the  thought  of  my  having  probably  over- 
heard her  expressions,  she  suddenly  left  the  house,  and 
for  that  time  escaped  reproof. 

"Sir,"  said  little  Jane,  "I  am  so  afraid,  if  I  go  to 
heaven,  I  shall  never  see  my  poor  mother  there.  I  wish 
I  may ;  but  she  does  swear  so,  and  keep  such  bad  com- 


174  THE     YOUNG     COTTAGEE. 

panj.  As  I  lie  here  a-bed,  Sir,  for  hours  together,  there 
is  often  so  much  wickedness,  and  noise,  and  quarrelling 
down  below,  that  I  do  not  know  how  to  bear  it.  It 
comes  very  near,  Sir,  when  one's  father  and  mother  go 
on  so.  I  want  them  all  to  turn  to  the  Lord,  and  go  to 
heaven.  —  Tell  me  now.  Sir,  something  about  being  an 
inheritor  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven." 

"  You  may  remember,  my  child,  what  I  have  told  you 
when  explaining  the  Catechism  in  the  church,  that  '  the 
kingdom  of  heaven'  in  the  Scriptures  means  the  Church 
of  Christ  upon  earth,  as  well  as  the  -state  of  glory  in 
heaven.  The  one  is  a  preparation  for  the  other.  All 
true  Christians  are  heirs  of  God,  and  joint-heirs  with 
Christ,  and  shall  inherit  the  glory  and  happiness  of  his 
kingdom,  and  live  with  Christ  and  be  with  him  for  ever. 
This  is  the  free  gift  of  God  to  his  adopted  children;  and 
all  that  believe  aright  in  Christ  shall  experience  the  truth 
of  that  promise,  'It  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure  to 
give  you  the  kingdom.'  You  are  a  poor  girl  now,  but  I 
trust,  '  an  entrance  shall  be  ministered  unto  you  abund- 
antly, into  the  everlasting  kingdom  of  our  Lord  and 
Saviour  Jesus  Christ.'  You  suffer  now;  but  are  you 
not  willing  to  suffer  for  his  sake,  and  to  bear  patiently 
those  things  to  which  he  calls  you  ?  " 

"  O  yes,  very  "willing ;  I  would  not  complain.  It  is 
all  right." 

^'  Then,  my  dear,  you  shall  reign  with  him.  Through 
much  tribulation  you  may,  perhaps,  enter  into  the  king- 
dom of  God;  but  tribulation  worketh  patience;  and 
patience,  experience ;  and  experience,  hope.  As  a  true 
'member  of  Christ,'  show  yourself  to  be  a  dutiful  'child 
of  God,'  and  your  portion  will  be  that  of  an  inheritor 
of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Faithful  is  He  that  hath 
promised ;  commit  thy  way  unto  the  Lord ;  trust  also  in 
him,  and  he  shall  bring  it  to  pass." 

"  Thank  you,  Sir ;  I  do  so  love  to  hear  of  these  things. 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  175 

And  I  think,  Sir,  T  should  not  love  them  so  much,  if  I 
had  no  part  in  them.  Sir,  there  is  one  thing  I  want  to 
ask  you.  It  is  a  great  thing,  and  I  may  be  wrong  —  I 
am  so  young — And  yet  I  hope  I  mean  right " 

Here  she  hesitated,  and  paused. 

"  What  is  it  ?  do  not  be  fearful  of  mentioning  it." 

A  tear  rolled  down  her  cheek  —  a  slight  blush  coloured 
her  countenance.  She  lifted  up  her  eyes  to  heaven  for  a 
moment,  and  then  fixing  them  on  me  with  a  solemn 
affecting  look,  said, 

''  May  so  young  a  poor  child  as  I  am,  be  admitted  to 
the  Lord's  Supper  ?  I  have  for  some  time  wished  it,  but 
dared  not  to  mention  it,  for  fear  you  should  think  it 
wrong." 

"  My  dear  Jenny,  I  have  no  doubt  respecting  it,  and 
shall  be  very  glad  to  converse  with  you  on  the  subject, 
and  hope  that  He  who  has  given  you  the  desire,  will 
bless  his  own  ordinance  to  your  soul.  Would  you  wish 
it  now,  or  to-morrow?" 

"To-morrow,  if  you  please.  Sir, — will  you  come  to- 
morrow, and  talk  to  me  about  it  ?  and  if  you  think  it 
proper,  I  shall  be  thankful.  I  am  growing  faint  now-^ 
I  hope  to  be  better  when  you  come  again." 

I  was  much  pleased  with  her  proposal  and  rejoiced  in 
the  prospect  of  seeing  so  young  and  sincere  a  Christian 
thus  devote  herself  to  the  Lord,  and  receive  the  sacra- 
mental seal  of  a  Saviour's  love  to  her  soul. 

Disease  was  making  rapid  inroads  upon  her  constitu- 
tion, and  she  was  aware  of  it.  But  as  the  outward  man 
decayed,  she  was  strengthened  with  might  by  God's 
Spirit  in  the  inner  man.  She  was  evidently  ripening 
fast  for  a  better  world. 

I  remember  these  things-with  affectionate  pleasure — 
they  revive  my  earlier  associations,  and  I  hope  the  recol- 
lection does  me  good.  I  wish  them  to  do  good  to  thee, 
likewise,  my  reader ;  and  therefore  I  write  them  down. 


176  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

May  the  simplicity  tliat  is  in  Christ  render 

"The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor" 

a  mean  of  grace  and  blessing  to  thy  soul !  Out  of  the 
moitth  of  this  babe  and  suckling  may  God  ordain  thee 
strength  I  If  thou  art  willing,  thou  mayest  perchance 
hear  something  further  respecting  her. 


PAET   lY. 

I  WAS  so  much  affected  with  my  last  visit  to  little  Jane, 
and  particularly  with  her  tender  anxiety  respecting  the 
Lord's  Supper,  that  it  formed  the  chief  subject  of  my 
thoughts  for  the  remainder  of  the  day. 

I  rode  in  the  afternoon  to  a  favourite  spot,  where  I 
sometimes  indulged  in  solitary  meditation ;  and  where  I 
wished  to  reflect  on  the  interesting  case  of  my  little 
disciple. 

It  was  a  place  well  suited  for  such  a  purpose. 

In  the  widely  sweeping  curve  of  a  beautiful  bay,  there 
is  a  kind  of  chasm  or  opening  in  one  of  the  lofty  cliffs 
which  bound  it.  This  produces  a  very  romantic  and 
striking  effect.  The  steep -descending  sides  of  this  opening 
in  the  cliff  are  covered  with  trees,  bushes,  wild  flowers, 
fern,  wormwood,  and  many  other  herbs,  here  and  there 
contrasted  with  bold  masses  of  rock  or  brown  earth. 

In  the  higher  part  of  one  of  these  declivities,  two  or 
three  picturesque  cottages  are  fixed,  and  seem  half  sus- 
pended in  the  air. 

From  the  upper  extremity  of  this  great  fissure  or 
opening  in  the  cliff,  a  small  stream  of  water  enters  by  a 
cascade,  flows  through  the  bbttom,  winding  in  a  varied 
course  of  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length ;  and  then 
runs  into  the  sea  across  a  smooth  expanse  of  firm  hard 
sand,  at  the  lower  extremity  of  the  chasm.   At  this  point. 


THE    YOUNG     COTTAGER.  177 

the  sides  of  the  woodj  banks  are  very  lofty,  and  to  a 
spectator  from  the  bottom,  exhibit  a  mixture  of  the  grand 
and  beautiful  not  often  exceeded. 

Near  the  mouth  of  this  opening  was  a  little  hollow 
recess,  or  cave,  in  the  clifP,  from  whence,  on  one  hand,  I 
could  see  the  above-described  romantic  scene;  on  the 
other,  a  long  train  of  perpendicular  cliffs,  terminating  in 
a  bold  and  wild-shaped  promontory,  which  closed  the 
bay  at  one  end,  while  a  conspicuous  white  cliff  stood 
directly  opposite,  about  four  miles  distant,  at  the  further 
point  of  the  bay. 

The  open  sea,  in  full  magnificence,  occupied  the  centre 
of  the  prospect ;  bounded,  indeed,  in  one  small  part,  by 
%  very  distant  shore,  on  the  rising  ascent  from  which  the 
rays  of  the  sun  rendered  visible  a  cathedral  church,  with 
its  towering  spire,  at  near  thirty  miles  distance.  Every 
where  else,  the  sea  beyond  was  limited  only  by  the  sky. 

A  frigate  was  standing  into  the  bay,  not  very  far  from 
my  recess ;  other  vessels  of  every  size,  sailing  in  many 
directions,  varied  the  scene,  and  furnished  matter  for  a 
thousand  sources  of  contemplation. 

At  my  feet  the  little  rivulet,  gently  rippling  over 
pebbles,  soon  mingled  with  the  sand,  and  was  lost  in  the 
waters  of  the  mighty  ocean.  The  murmuring  of  the 
waves,  as  the  tide  ebbed  or  flowed,  on  the  sand ;  their 
dashing  against  some  more  distant  rocks,  which  were 
covered  fantastically  with  sea- weed  and  shells  ;  sea-birds 
floating  in  the  air  aloft,  or  occasionally  screaming  from 
their  holes  in  the  cliffs ;  the  hum  of  human  voices  in  the 
ships  and  boats,  borne  along  the  water :  all  these  sounds 
served  to  promote,  rather  than  interrupt,  meditation. 
They  were  soothingly  blended  together,  and  entered  the 
ear  in  a  kind  of  natural  harmony. 

In  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  a  scene  like  this,  the  lover 
of  nature's  beauties  will  easily  find  scope  for  spiritual 
illustration. 


178  THE     YOUNG     COTTAGE  E. 

Here  I  sat  and  mused  over  the  interesting  cliaracter 
and  circumstances  of  little  Jane.  Here  I  prayed  that 
God  would  effectually  teach  me  those  truths  which  I 
ought  to  teach  her. 

When  I  thought  of  her  youth,  I  blushed  to  think  how 
superior  she  was  to  what  I  well  remembered  myself  to 
have  been  at  the  same  age :  nay,  how  fur  my  superior  at 
that  very  time.  I  earnestly  desired  to  catch  something 
of  the  spirit  which  appeared  so  lovely  in  her :  for  simple, 
teachable,  meek,  humble,  yet  earnest  in  her  demeanour, 
she  bore  living  marks  of  heavenly  teaching. 

"The  Lord,"  thought  I,  "has  called  this  little  child, 
and  set  her  in  the  midst  of  us,  as  a  parable,  a  pattern,  an 
emblem.  And  he  saith,  '  Verily,  except  ye  be  converted, 
and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.'  O  that  I  may  be  humble  as  this 
little  child!" 

I  was  thus  led  into  a  deep  self-examination,  and  was 
severely  exercised  with  fear  and  apprehension,  whether 
I  was  myself  a  real  partaker  of  those  divine  influences 
which  I  could  so  evidently  discover  in  her.  Sin  appeared 
to  me  just  then  to  be  more  than  ever  "exceeding  sinful." 
Inward  and  inbred  corruptions  made  me  tremble.  The 
danger  of  self-deception  in  so  great  a  matter  alarmed 
me — I  was  a  teacher  of  others:  but  was  I  indeed  spirit- 
ually taught  myself? 

A  spirit  of  anxious  enquiry  ran  through  every  thought: 
I  looked  at  the  manifold  works  of  creation  around  me ;  1 
perceived  the  greatest  marks  of  regularity  and  order; 
but  within  I  felt  confusion  and  disorder. 

"The  waves  of  the  sea,"  thought  I,  "ebb  and  flow  in 
exact  obedience  to  the  laws  of  their  Creator.  —  Thus  far 
they  come,  and  no  farther  —  they  retire  again  to  their 
accustomed  bounds ;  and  so  maintain  a  regulated  succes- 
sion of  effects. 

"  But,  alas  1  the  waves  of  passion  and  affection  in  the 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  179 

liuman  breast,  nianifest  more  of  the  wild  confusion  of  a 
storm,  than  the  orderly  regularity  of  a  tide — Grace  can 
alone  subdue  them. 

'  What  peaceful  harmony  subsists  throughout  all  this 
lovely  landscape ! —^hese  majestic  cliffs,  some  clothed 
with  trees  and  shrubs ;  others  bare  and  unadorned  with 
herbage,  yet  variegated  with  many-coloured  earths ;  these 
are  not  only  sublime  and  delightful  to  behold,  but  they 
are  answering  the  end  of  their  creation,  and  serve  as  a 
barrier  to  stop  the  progress  of  the  waves. 

"But  how  little  peace  and  harmony  can  I  compara- 
tively see  in  my  own  heart !  The  landscape  within  is 
marred  by  dreary  barren  wilds,  and  wants  that  engaging 
character  which  the  various  parts  of  this  prospect  before 
me  so  happily  preserve.  —  Sin,  sin,  is  the  bane  of  mor- 
tality, and  heaps  confusion  upon  confusion,  wherever  it 
prevails. 

"  Yet,  saith  the  voice  of  Promise,  '  Sin  shall  not  have 
dominion  over  you.'  —  0!  then,  'may  I  yield  myself 
unto  God,  as  one  that  am  alive  from  the  dead,  and  my 
members  as  instruments  of  righteousness  unto  God.' 
And  thus  may  I  become  an  able  and  willing  minister  of 
the  New  Testament ! 

"I  wish  I  were  like  this  little  stream  of  water — It 
takes  its  first  rise  scarcely  a  mile  off:  yet  it  has  done 
good  even  in  that  short  course.  It  has  passed  by  several 
cottages  in  its  way,  and  afforded  life  and  health  to  the 
inhabitants — it  has  watered  their  little  gardens  as  it 
flows,  and  enriched  the  meadows  near  its  banks.  It  has 
satisfied  the  thirst  of  the  flocks  that  are  feeding  aloft  on 
the  hills,  and  perhaps  refreshed  the  shepherd's  boy  who 
sits  watching  his  master's  sheep  hard  by.  It  then  quietly 
finishes  its  current  in  this  secluded  dell,  and,  agreeably 
to  the  design  of  its  Creator,  quickly  vanishes  in  the 
ocean. 

"  May  my  course  be  like  unto  thine,  thou  little  rivulet  I 


180  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

Though  short  be  my  span  of  life,  yet  may  I  be  useful  to 
my  fellow- sinners,  as  I  travel  onwards!  Let  me  be  a 
dispenser  of  spiritual  support  and  health  to  many !  Like 
this  stream,  may  I  prove  '  the  poor  man's  friend '  by  the 
way,  and  water  the  souls  that  thirst  for  the  river  of 
life,  wherever  I  meet  them! — And,  if  it  please  thee,  O 
my  God !  let  me  in  my  latter  end  be  like  this  brook.  It 
calmly,  though  not  quite  silently,  flows  through  this 
scene  of  peace  and  loveliness,  just  before  it  enters  the 
sea.  Let  me  thus  gently  close  my  days  likewise ;  and 
may  I  not  unusefully  tell  to  others  of  the  goodness  and 
mercy  of  my  Saviour,  till  I  arrive  at  the  vast  ocean  of 
eternity ! 

"Thither,"  thought  I,  "little  Jane  is  fast  hastening. 
Short,  but  not  useless,  has  been  her  course.  I  feel  the 
great  importance  of  it  in  my  own  soal  at  this  moment. 
I  view  a  work  of  mercy  there,  to  which  I  do  hope  I  am 
not  quite  a  stranger  in  the  experience  of  my  own  heart. 
The  thought  enlivens  my  spirit,  and  leads  me  to  see, 
that,  great  as  is  the  power  of  sin,  the  power  of  Jesus  is 
greater :  and,  through  grace,  I  may  meet  my  dear  young 
disciple,  my  child  in  the  gospel,  my  sister  in  the  faith,  in 
a  brighter,  a  better  world  hereafter." 

There  was  something  in  the  whole  of  this  meditation, 
which  calmed  and  prepared  my  mind  for  my  promised 
visit  the  next  day.  I  looked  forward  to  it  with  affec- 
tionate anxiety. 

It  was  now  time  to  return  homewards.  The  sun  was 
setting.  The  lengthened  shadows  of  the  cliffs,  and  of  the 
hills  towering  again  far  above  them,  cast  a  brown  but 
not  unpleasing  tint  over  the  waters  of  the  bay.  Further 
on,  the  beams  of  the  sun  still  maintained  their  splendour. 
Some  of  the  sails  of  the  distant  ships,  enlivened  by  its 
rays,  appeared  like  white  spots  in  the  blue  horizon,  and 
seemed  to  attract  my  notice,  as  if  to  claim  at  least  the 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  181 

passing  prayer,  ''  God  speed  tlie  mariners  on  their  voy- 
age  I" 

I  quitted  my  retreat  in  the  cliff  with  some  reluctance ; 
but  with  a  state  of  mind,  as  I  hoped,  solemnized  by 
reflection,  and  animated  to  fresh  exertion. 

I  walked  up  by  a  steep  pathway,  that  winded  through 
the  trees  and  shrubs  on  the  sides  of  one  of  the  precipices. 
At  every  step,  the  extent  of  prospect  enlarged,  and 
acquired  a  new  and  varying  character,  by  being  seen 
through  the  trees  on  each  side.  Climbing  up  a  kind  of 
rude,  inartificial  set  of  stone  stairs  in  the  bank,  I  passed 
by  the  singularly-situated  cottages,  which  I  had  viewed 
from  beneath  ;  received  and  returned  the  evening  saluta- 
tion of  the  inhabitants,  sitting  at  their  doors,  and  just 
come  home  from  labour ;  till  I  arrived  at  the  top  of  the 
precipice,  where  I  had  left  my  horse  tied  to  a  gate. 

Could  he  have  enjoyed  it,  he  had  a  noble  prospect 
around  him  in  every  direction  from  this  elevated  point 
of  view,  where  he  had  been  stationed  while  I  was  on  the 
shore  below.  But  wherein  he  most  probably  failed,  I 
think  his  rider  did  not.  The  landscape,  taken  in  con- 
nexion with  my  recent  train  of  thought  about  myself 
and  little  Jane,  inspired  devotion. 

The  sun  was  now  set :  the  bright  colours  of  the  western 
clouds  faintly  reflected  from  the  south-eastern  hills,  that 
were  unseen  from  my  retreat  in  the  cliff,  or  only  per- 
ceived by  their  evening  shadows  on  the  sea,  now  added 
to  the  beauty  of  the  prospect  on  the  south  and  west. 
Every  element  contributed  to  the  interesting  effect  of  the 
scenery.  The  earth  was  diversified  in  shape  and  orna- 
ment. The  waters  of  the  ocean  presented  a  noble  feature 
in  the  landscape.  The  air  was  serene,  or  only  ruffled  by 
a  freshing  breeze  from  the  shore.  And  the  sun's  fiery 
beams,  though  departing  for  the  night,  still  preserved 
such  a  portion  of  light  and  warmth,  as  rendered  all  the 
rest  delightful  to  an  evening  traveller. 


182  THE     YOUNG     COTTAGER. 

The  next  morning  I  went  to  Jane's  cottage.  On  enter- 
ing the  door,  the  woman  who  so  frequently  visited  her, 
met  me,  and  said : 

"Perhaps,  Sir,  you  will  not  wake  her  just  yet;  for  she 
has  dropped  asleep,  and  she  seldom  gets  much  rest,  poor 
girl." 

I  went  gently  up  stairs. 

The  child  was  in  a  half-sitting  posture,  leaning  her 
head  upon  her  right  hand,  with  her  Bible  open  before 
her.  She  had  evidently  fallen  asleep  while  reading.  Her 
countenance  was  beautifully  composed  and  tranquil.  A 
few  tears  had  rolled  down  her  cheek,  and  (probably 
unknown  to  her)  dropped  upon  the  pages  of  her  book. 

I  looked  around  me  for  a  moment.  The  room  was 
outwardly  comfortless  and  uninviting :  the  walls  out  of 
repair ;  the  sloping  roof  somewhat  shattered ;  the  floor 
broken  and  uneven;  no  furniture,  but  two  tottering 
bedsteads,  a  three-legged  stool,  and  an  old  oak, chest — 
the  window  broken  in  many  places,  and  mended  with 
patches  of  paper.  A  little  shelf  against  the  wall,  over 
the  bedstead  where  Jane  lay,  served  for  her  physic,  her 
food,  and  her  books. 

"Yet/iere,"  I  said  to  myself,  "lies  an  heir  of  glory, 
waiting  for  a  happy  dismissal.  Her  earthly  home  is 
poor  indeed:  but  she  has  a  house,  not  made  with  hands, 
eternal  in  the  heavens.  She  has  little  to  attach  her  to 
this  world :  but  what  a  weight  of  glory  in  the  world  to 
come !  This  mean,  despised  chamber  is  a  palace  in  the 
eye  of  faith,  for  it  contains  one  that  is  inheritor  of  a 
crown." 

I  approached  without  waking  her,  and  observed  that 
she  had  been  reading  the  twenty-third  chapter  of  St. 
Luke.  The  finger  of  her  left  hand  lay  upon  the  book, 
pointing  *to  the  words,  as  if  she  had  been  using  it  to 
guide  her  eye  whilst  she  read. 

I  looked  at  the  place,  and  was  pleased  at  the  apparently 


/  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  K.  183 

casual  circumstance  of  tier  finger  pointing  at  these  words: 
— ''Lord,  remember  me,  when  thou  comest  into  thy 
kingdom." 

"Is  this  casual  or  designed?"  thought  I  —  "Either 
way  it  is  remarkable." 

But  in  another  moment  I  discovered  that  her  finger 
'^2,^  indeed  an  index  to  the  thoughts  of  her  heart. 

She  half  d^-wokQ  from  her  dozing  state,  but  not  suffi- 
ciently so  to  perceive  that  any  person  was  present,  and 
said,  in  a  kind  of  whisper, 

"Lord,  remember  me  —  Eemember  me  —  Eemember — 
Eemember  a  poor  child — Lord,  remember  me " 

She  then  suddenly  started,  and  perceived  me,  as  she 
became  fully  awake  —  a  faint  blush  overspread  her  cheeks 
for  a  moment,  and  then  disappeared. 

"Dame  K ,  how  long  have  I  been  asleep?  —  Sir, 

I  am  very  sorry " 

"  And  I  am  very  glad  to  find  you  thus,"  I  replied : 
"  you  may  say  with  David,  '  I  laid  me  down  and  slept : 
I  awaked,  for  the  Lord  sustained  me.'  What  were  you 
reading  ?  " 

"  The  history  of  the  crucifying  of  Jesus,  Sir." 

"  How  far  had  you  read  when  you  fell  asleep  ?  " 

"  To  the  prayer  of  the  thief  that  was  crucified  with 
him :  and  when  I  came  to  that  place,  I  stopped,  and 
thought  what  a  mercy  it  would  be,  if  the  Lord  Jesus 
should  remember  me  likewise — and  so  I  fell  asleep,  and 
I  fancied  in  my  dream,  that  I  saw  Christ  upon  the  cross ; 
and  I  thought  I  said,  'Lord,  remember  me'  —  and  I  am 
sure  he  did  not  look  angry  upon  me — and  then  I  awoke." 

All  this  seemed  to  be  a  sweet  commentary  on  the  text, 
and  a  most  suitable  forerunner  of  our  intended  sacra- 
mental service. 

"  Well,  my  dear  child,  I  am  come,  as  you  v,^ished  me, 
to  administer  the  sacrament  of  the  body  and  blood  of 


184:  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

our  blessed  Saviour  to  you ;  and  I  dare  say  neighbour 
K will  be  glad  to  join  us." 

*'  Talk  to  me  a  little  about  it  first,  Sir,  if  you  please." 

"You  remember  what  you  have  learned  in  your 
Catecbism  about  it. — Let  us  consider. — A  sacrament, 
you  know,  is  '  an  outward  and  visible  sign  of  an  inward 
and  spiritual  grace,  given  unto  us,  ordained  by  Christ 
himself,  as  a  means  whereby  we  receive  the  same,  and  a 
pledge  to  assure  us  thereof.'  Now  the  Lord  has  ordained 
bread  and  wine  in  the  holy  supper,  as  the  outward  mark, 
which  we  behold  with  our  eyes.  It  is  a  sign,  a  token,  a 
seal  of  his  love,  grace,  and  blessing,  which  he  promises 
to,  and  bestows  on,  all  who  receive  it,  rightly  believing 
on  his  name  and  work.  He,  in  this  manner,  preserves 
amongst  us,  a  '  continual  remembrance  of  his  death,  and 
of  the  benefits  which  we  receive  thereby.' 

"  What  do  you  believe  respecting  the  death  of  Christ, 
Jenny  ?  " 

"  That  because  he  died.  Sir,  we  live." 

"  What  life  do  we  live  thereby  ?  " 

*'  The  life  of  grace  and  mercy  now,  and  the  life  of  glory 
and  happiness  hereafter :  is  it  not.  Sir  ?  " 

"Yes,  assuredly;  this  is  the  fruit  of  the  death  of 
Christ :  and  thus  he  '  opened  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to 
all  believers.'  As  bread  and  wine  strengthen  and  refresh 
your  poor  weak  fainting  body  in  this  very  sickness,  so 
does  the  blessing  of  his  body  and  blood  strengthen  and 
refresh  the  souls  of  all  that  repose  their  faith,  hope,  and 
affections  on  Him  who  loved  us  and  gave  himself  for  us." 

Tears  ran  down  her  cheeks,  as  she  said,  "01  what  a 
Saviour !  —  01  what  a  sinner ! — How  kind — how  good ! 
— And  is  this  for  me  ?  " 

"  Fear  not,  dear  child :  He  that  has  made  you  to  love 
him  thus,  loves  you  too  well  to  deny  you.  He  will  in 
no  wise  cast  out  any  that  come  to  him." 

"Sir,  said  the  girl,  "lean  never  think"  about  Jesus, 


THE    YOUNG     COTTAGE  E.  185 

and  his  love  to  sinners,  witliout  wondering  how  it  can 
be.  I  deserve  nothing  but  his  anger  on  account  of  my 
sins.  Why  then  does  he  love  me  ?  —  My  heart  is  evil. 
Why  then  does  he  love  me? — I  continually  forget  all 
his  goodness.  Why  then  does  he  love  me? — I  neither 
pray  to  him,  nor  thank  him,  nor  do  any  thing  as  I  ought 
to  do.     Why  then  such  love  to  me  ?  " 

"  How  plain  it  is,  that  all  is  mercy  from  first  to  last  I 
and  that  sweetens  the  blessing,  my  child.  Are  you  not 
willing  to  give  Christ  all  the  honour  of  your  salvation, 
and  to  take  all  the  blame  of  your  sins  on  your  own  self?  " 

'^Yes,  indeed,  Sir,  I  am.     My  hymn  says, 

"  Blest  be  the  Lord  that  sent  his  Son,  - 

To  take  our  flesh  and  blood: 
He  for  our  lives  gave  up  his  own, 
To  make  our  peace  with  God. 

He  honour'd  all  his  Father's  law 

Which  we  have  disobey'd ; 
He  bore  our  sins  upon  the  cross, 

And  our  full  ransom  paid.'  " 

"  I  am  glad  you  remember  your  hymns  so  well,  Jenny." 

"  Sir,  you  don't  know  what  pleasure  they  give  me.  I 
am  very  glad  you  gave  me  that  little  book  of  Hymns  for 
Children." 

A  severe  fit  of  coughing  interrupted  her  speech  for  a 
while.  The  woman  held  her  head.  It  was  distressing 
to  observe  her  struggle  for  breath,  and  almost,  as  it  were, 
for  life. 

^'Foor  dear!"  said  the  woman,  ''I  wish  I  could  help 
thee,  and  ease  thy  pains :  but  they  will  not  last  for  ever." 

"God  helps  me,"  said  the  girl,  recovering  her  breath : 
"God  helps  me;  he  will  carry  me  through.  —  Sir,  you 
look  frightened  —  /am  not  afraid — this  is  nothing — I 
am  better  now.  Thank  you,  dame,  thank  you.  I  am 
very  troublesome ;  but  the  Lord  will  bless  you  for  this 


186  THE    YOUNG     COTTAGE  E. 

and  all  your  kindDess  to  me:  yes,  Sir,  and  yours  too. 
Now  talk  to  me  again  about  tlie  sacrament." 

"  What  is  required,  Jenny,  of  them  who  come  to  the 
Lord's  supper?  There  are  five  things  named  in  the 
Catechism — do  you  remember  what  is  the  first?" 

She  paused ;  and  then  said,  with  a  solemn  and  intelli- 
gent look, 

"To  examine  themselves  whether  they  repent  them 
truly  of  their  former  sins." 

"  I  hope  and  think  that  you  know  what  this  means, 
Jenny :  the  Lord  has  given  you  the  spirit  of  repentance." 

"Ko  one  knows.  Sir,  what  the  thoughts  of  past  sin 
have  been  to  me.  Yes,  the  Lord  knows,  and  that  is 
enough:  and  I  hope  he  forgives  me  for  Christ's  sake. 
His  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  Sir,  I  sometimes  think 
of  my  sins  till  I  tremble,  and  it  makes  me  cry  to  think 
that  I  have  offended  such  a  God ;  -and  then  he  comforts 
me  again  with  sweet  thoughts  about  Christ." 

"It  is  well,  my  child  —  be  it  so.  The  next  thing 
mentioned  in  that  answer  of  your  Catechism,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  Steadfastly  purposing  to  lead  a  new  life." 

"  And  what  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

"  My  life.  Sir,  will  be  a  short  one ;  and  I  wish  it  had 
been  a  better  one.  But  from  my  heart  I  desire  that  it 
may  be  a  new  one,  for  the  time  to  come.  I  want  to  for- 
sake all  my  evil  ways  and  thoughts,  and  evil  words,  and 
evil  companions ;  and  to  do  what  God  bids  me,  and  what 
you  tell  me  is  right.  Sir,  and  what  I  read  of  in  my  Bible. 
But  I  am  afraid  I  do  not,  my  heart  is  so  full  of  sin. 
However,  Sir,  I  pray  to  God  to  help  me.  My  days  will 
be  few ;  but  I  wish  they  may  be  spent  to  the  glory  of 
God." 

"  The  blessing  of  the  Lord  be  upon  you,  Jane ;  so  that, 
whether  you  live,  you  may  live  to  the  Lord :  or  whether 
you  die,  you  may  die  unto  the  Lord;   and  that,  living 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  187 

or  dying,  you  may  be  tte  Lord's. — What  is  the  next 
thing  mentioned  ?  " 

"  To  have  a  lively  faith  in  God's  mercy  through  Christ, 
Sir." 

"  Do  you  believe  that  God  is  merciful  to  you  in  the 
pardon  of  your  sins  ?  " 

"I  do,  Sir,"  said  the  child,  earnestly. 

"And  if  he  pardons  you,  is  it  for  your  own  sake, 
Jenny  ?  " 

"  No,  Sir,  no ;  it  is  for  Christ's  sake,  for  my  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ's  sake,  and  that  only — Christ  is  all." 

"  Can  you  trust  him  ?  " 

"Sir,  I  must  not  mistrust  him;  nor  would  T,  if  I 
might." 

"  Eight,  child ;  he  is  worthy  of  all  your  trust." 

"  And  then.  Sir,  I  am  to  have  a  thankful  remembrance 
of  his  death.  I  can  never  think  of  his  dying,  but  I 
think  also  what  a  poor  unworthy  creature  I  am ;  and  yet 
he  is  so  good  to  me.  I  wish  I  could  thank  him.  —  Sir,  I 
have  been  reading  about  his  death.  How  could  the 
people  do  as  they  did  to  him? — but  it  was  all  for  our 
salvation.  And  then  the  thief  on  the  cross  —  That  is 
beautiful.  I  hope  he  will  remember  me  too,  and  that  1 
^hall  always  remember  him  and  his  death  most  thank- 
Fully." 

"  And  lastly,  Jenny,  are  you  in  charity  wdth  all  men  ? 
Do  you  forgive  all  that  have  offended  you?  Do  you 
bear  ill-will  in  your  heart  to  any  body  ?  " 

"  Dear  Sir !  no ;  how  can  I  ?  If  God  is  so  good  to  me, 
if  he  forgives  me,  how  ■  can  I  help  forgiving  others  ? 
There  is  not  a  person  in  all  the  world,  I  think.  Sir,  that 
I  do  not  wish  well  to  for  Christ's  sake,  and  that  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart." 

"How  do  you  feel  towards  those  bold,  wanton,  ill- 
tempered  girls  at  the  next  door^  who  jeer  and  mock  you 
so  about  your  religion  ?  " 


188  THE    YOUNG     COTTAGE  E. 

"  Sir,  the  worst  tiling  I  wish  them  is,  that  God  may- 
give  them  grace  to  repent ;  that  he  may  change  their 
hearts,  and  pardon  all  their  wicked  ways  and  words. 
May  he  forgive  them  as  I  do  with,  all  my  soul !  " 

She  ceased  —  I  wished  to  ask  no  more.  My  heart  was 
full.  "  Can  this  be  the  religion  of  a  child  ?  "  thought  I ; 
"  0  that  we  were  all  children  like  her ! " 

"  Eeach  me  that  prayer-book,  and  the  cup  and  plate. 
My  dear  friends,  I  will  now,  with  God's  blessing,  partake 
with  you  in  the  holy  communion  of  our  Lord's  body 
and  blood." 

The  time  was  sweet  and  solemn.  I  went  through  the 
sacramental  service. 

The  countenance  and  manner  of  the  child  evinced 
powerful  feelings.  Tears  mingled  with  smiles ;  resigna- 
tion brightened  by  hope;  humility  animated  by  faith; 
child-like  modesty  adorned  with  the  understanding  of  a 
riper  age;  gratitude,  peace,  devotion,  patience, — all  these 
were  visible.  I  thought  I  distinctly  saw  them  all — and 
did  /  alone  see  them  ?  Is  it  too  much  to  say  that  other 
created  beings,  whom  I  could  not  behold  with  my  natural 
eyes,  were  witnesses  of  the  scene  ? 

If  ministering  angels  do  ascend  and  descend  with  glad 
tidings  between  earth  and  heaven,  I  think  they  did  so 
then. 

When  I  had  concluded  the  service,  I  said, 

''Now,  my  dear  Jane,  you  are  indeed  become  a  sister 
in  the  church  of  Christ.  May  his  Spirit  and  blessing 
rest  upon  you, —  strengthen  and  refresh  you!" 

"  My  mercies  are  great,  very  great.  Sir ;  greater  than 
I  can  express — I  thank  you  for  this  favour  —  I  thought 
I  was  too  young — it  seemed  too  much  for  me  to  think 
of:  but  I  am  now  sure  the  Lord  is  good  to  me,  and  I 
hope  I  have  done  right." 

"  Yes,  Jenny ;  and  I  trust  you  are  both  outwardly  and 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  K.  189 

inwardly  sealed  by  tlie  Holy  Gliost  to  the  day  of  redemp- 
tion." 

"  Sir,  I  shall  never  forget  this  day." 

"Neither,  I  think,  shall  I." 

'^Norl,"  said  the  good  old  woman :  "sure  the  Lord 
has  been  in  the  midst  of  ns  three  to-day,  while  we  have 
been  gathered  together  in  his  name." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  child,  "I  wish  you  could  speak  to  my 
mother,  when  you  come  again.  But  she  keeps  out  of 
your  sight.  I  am  so  grieved  about  her  soul ;  and  I  am 
afraid  she  cares  nothing  at  all  about  it  herself." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  the  next  time  I 
come.     Farewell,  my  child." 

"Good  bye,  Sir,  and  I  thank  you  for  all  your  kind- 
ness to  me." 

"  Surely,"  I  thought  within  myself,  as  I  left  the  cot- 
tage, "  this  young  bud  of  grace  will  bloom  beauteously 
in  Paradise.  The  Lord  transplant  her  thither  in  his  own 
good  time !  Yet,  if  it  be  his  will,  may  she  live  a  little 
longer,  that  I  may  further  profit  by  her  conversation 
and  example." 

Possibly,  some  who  peruse  these  simple  records  of 
[>oor  little  Jane,  may  wish  the  same.  If  it  be  so,  we  will 
visit  her  again  before  she  departs  hence,  and  is  no  more 
seen. 


PART    V. 


Jane  was  hastening  fast  to  her  dissolution.  She  still, 
however,  preserved  sufficient  strength  to  converse  with 
much  satisfaction  to  herself  and  those  who  visited  her. 
Such  as  could  truly  estimate  the  value  of  her  spiritual 
state  of  mind  were  but  few ;  yet  the  most  careless  could 
not  help  being  struck  with  her  affectionate  seriousness, 


190  THE     YOUNG    COTTAGE  E. 

her  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  and  her  happy  applica- 
tion of  them  to  her  own  case. 

"  The  holy  spark  divine," 
which  regenerating  grace  had  implanted  in  her  heart, 
brightened  as  she  drew  near  the  close  of  life,  and  kindled 
into  a  flame,  which  warmed  and  animated  the  beholder. 
To  soine,  I  am  persuaded,  her  exaniple  and  conversation 
were  made  a  blessing.  Memory  reflects  with  gratitude, 
whilst  I  write,  on  the  profit  and  consolation  which  I 
individually  derived  from  her  society.  ISTor  I  alone. 
The  last  day  will,  if  I  err  not,  disclose  further  fruits, 
resulting  from  the  love  of  God  to  this  little  child ;  and, 
through  her,  to  others  that  saw  her.  And  may  not  hope 
indulge  the  prospect,  that  this  simple  memorial  of  her 
history  shall  be  as  one  arrow  drawn  from  the  quiver  of 
the  Almighty  to  reach,  the  heart  of  the  young  and  the 
thoughtless?  Direct  its  course,  0  my  God  I  May  the 
eye  that  reads  and  the  ear  that  hears,  the  record  of  little 
Jane,  through  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Most 
Highest,  each  become  a  witness  for  the  truth  as  it  is  in 
Jesus  I 

I  remembered  the  tender  solicitude  of  this  dear  child 
for  her  mother.  I  well  knew  what  an  awful  contrast  the 
dispositions  and  conduct  of  her  parents  exhibited,  when 
compared  with  her  own. 

I  resolved  to  avail  myself  of  the  first  opportunity  I 
could  seize  to  speak  to  tbe  mother  in  the  child's  pre- 
sence. The  woman  had  latterly  avoided  me,  conscious 
of  deserving,  and  fearful  of  receiving,  reproof.  The  road 
by  which  I  usually  approached  the  house,  lay,  for  some 
little  distance,  sufficiently  in  sight  of  its  windows,  to 
enable  the  woman  to  retire  out  of  the  way  before  I 
arrived.  There  was,  however,  another  path,  through 
fields  at  the  back  of  the  village,  which,  owing  to  the 
situation  of  the  ground,  allowed  of  an  approach  unper- 
ceived,  till  a  visitor  reached  the  very  cottage  itself. 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  191 

One  morning,  soon  after  the  sacramental  interview 
related  in  my  last  paper,  I  chose  this  road  for  my  visit. 
It  was  preferable  to  me  on  every  account.  The  distance 
was  not  quite  half  a  mile  from  my  house.  The  path  was 
retired.  I  hereby  avoided  the  noise  and  interruption 
which  even  a  village  street  will  sometimes  present  to 
disturb  the  calmness  of  interesting  meditation. 

As  I  passed  through  the  churchyard,  and  cast  my  eye 
on  the  memorable  epitaph;  ''Soon,"  I  thought  within 
me,  "  will  my  poor  little  Jane  mingle  her  mouldering 
remains  with  this  dust,  and  sleep  with  her  fathers !  Soon 
will  the  youthful  tongue,  which  now  lisps  Hosannas  to 
the  Son  of  David,  and  delights  my  heart  with  the 
evidences  of  early  piety  and  grace,  be  silent  in  the  earth  I 
Soon  shall  I  be  called  to  commit  her  ^body  to  the 
ground,  earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  dust  to  dust.'  But 
O  I  what  a  glorious  change !  Her  spirit  shall  have  then 
returned  to  God,  which  gave  it.  Her  soul  will  be  joining 
the  hallelujahs  of  Paradise,  while  we  sing  her  requiem 
at  the  grave.  And  her  very  dust  shall  here  wait,  '  in. 
sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  joyful  resurrection  from  the 
dead.' " 

I  went  through  the  fields  without  meeting  a  single 
individual.  I  enjoyed  the  retirement  of  my  solitary 
walk :  various  surrounding  objects  contributed  to  excite 
useful  meditation,  connected  with  the  great  subjects  of 
time  and  eternity.  Here  and  there  a  drooping  flower 
reminded  me  of  the  fleeting  nature  of  mortal  life.  Some- 
times a  shady  spot  taught  me  to  look  to  Him,  who  is  "a 
shadow  in  the  day-time  from  the  heat,  and  for  a  place 
of  refuge,  and  for  a  covert  from  storm  and  from  rain." 
If  a  worm  crept  across  my  path,  I  saw  an  emblem  of 
myself  as  I  am  7iow :  and  the  winged  insects,  fluttering 
in  the  sunbeams,  led  me  comparatively  to  reflect  on 
wliat  I  hoped  to  be  hereafter. 

The  capacious  mansion  of  a  rich  neighbour  appeared 


192  THE    YOUNG     COTTAGE  K. 

on  the  right  hand,  as  I  walked :  on  my  left  were  the 
cottages  of  the  poor.  The  church  spire  pointing  to 
heaven  a  little  beyond,  seemed  to  say  to  both  the  rich 
and  the  poor,  "  Set  your  affections  on  things  above,  not 
on  things  on  the  earth." 

All  these  objects  afforded  me  useful  meditation ;  and 
all  obtained  an  increased  value,  as  such,  because  they  lay 
in  my  road  to  the  house  of  little  Jane. 

I  was  now  arrived  at  the  stile  nearly  adjoining  her 
dwelling.  The  upper  window  was  open,  and  I  soon 
distinguished  the  sound  of  voices :  I  was  glad  to  hear 
that  of  the  mother.  I  entered  the  house  door  unper- 
ceived  by  those  above  stairs,  and  sat  down  below,  not 
wishing  as  yet  to  interrupt  a  conversation,  which  quickly 
caught  my  ear. 

"  Mother !  mother !  I  have  not  long  to  live.  My  time 
will  be  very  short.  But  I  must,  indeed  I  must,  say 
something  for  your  sake,  before  -I  die.  O  mother !  you 
have  a  soul — you  have  a  soul;  and  what  will  become 
of  it  when  you  die  ?  O  my  mother !  I  am  so  uneasy 
about  your  soul —  " 

"O  dear!  I  shall  lose  my  child — she  will  die — and 
what  shall  I  do  when  you  are  gone,  my  Jenny?" — She 
sobbed  aloud. 

"Mother,  think  about  your  soul.  Have  not  you 
neglected  that?" 

"Yes,  I  have  been  a  wicked  creature,  and  hated  all 
that  was  good.     What  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  Mother,  you  must  pray  to  God  to  pardon  you  for 
Christ's  sake.     You  must  pray." 

"Jenny,  my  child,  I  cannot  pray;  I  never  did  pray  in 
all  my  life.     I  am  too  wicked  to  pray." 

"  Mother,  I  have  been  wanting  to  speak  to  you  a  long 
time.  But  I  was  afraid  to  do  it.  You  did  not  like  me 
to  say  any  thing  about  religion,  and  I  did  not  know  how 
to  begin.     But  indeed,  mother,  I  must  speak  now,  or  it 


THE    YOUNG     COTTAGER.  .  193 

may  be  too  late.     I  wisli  Mr. was  here,  for  tie  could 

talk  to  you  better  than  I  can.  But,  perhaps,  you  will 
think  of  what  I  say,  poor  as  it  is,  when  I  am  dead.  I 
am  but  a  young  child,  and  not  fit  to  speak  about  such 
things  to  any  body.  But,  mother,  you  belong  to  me, 
and  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  your  perishing  for  ever. 
My  Lord  and  Saviour  has  shown  me  my  own  sin  and 
corruptions :  he  loved  me  and  gave  himself  for  me :  he 
died  and  he  rose  again :  I  want  to  praise  him  for  it  for 
ever  and  ever.  I  hope  I  shall  see  him  in  heaven ;  but  I 
want  to  see  you  there  too,  mother.  Do,  pray  do,  leave 
off  swearing  and  other  bad  ways :  go  to  church,  and  hear 
our  Minister  speak  about  Jesus  Christ,  and  what  he  has 
done  for  wicked  sinners.  He  wishes  well  to  souls.  He 
taught  me  the  way,  and  he  will  teach  you,  mother.  Why 
did  you  always  go  out  of  the  house  when  you  knew  he 
was  coming  ?  Do  not  be  angry  with  me,  mother ;  I  only 
speak  for  your  good.  I  was  once  as  careless  as  you  are 
about  the  things  of  God.  But  I  have  seen  my  error.  I 
was  in  the  broad  road  leading  to  destruction,  like  many 
other  children  in  the  parish ;  and  the  Lord  saw  me  and 
had  mercy  upon  me." 

"Yes,  my  child,  you  was  always  a  good  girl,  and 
minded  your  book." 

"  No,  mother,  no ;  not  always.  I  cared  nothing  about 
goodness,  nor  my  Bible,  till  the  Minister  came  and  sent 
for  us,  as  you  know,  on  Saturday  afternoons.  Don't  you 
remember,  mother,  that  at  first  you  did  not  like  me  to 
go,  and  said  you  would  have  no  such  godly  pious  doings 
about  your  house ;  and  that  I  had  better  play  about  the 
street  and  fields  than  be  laughed  at  and  made  game  of 
for  pretending  to  be  so  good  ?  Ah,  mother !  you  did  not 
know  what  I  went  for,  and  what  God  designed  for  me 
and  my  poor  sinful  soul.  ^But,  thank  God,  I  did  go,  and 
there  learned  the  way  of  salvation.  Mother,  I  wish  you 
had  learned  it  too."  ir 


194  THE     rOUNG     COTTAGER 

As  I  listened  to  this  affecting  conversation,  it  appeared 
to  me,  from  the  tone  and  manner  of  the  mother's  voice, 
that  she  was  more  under  the  influence  of  temporary 
grief,  on  account  of  her  child's  extreme  illness,  than 
sincere  sorrow  from  any  real  sense  of  her  sins.  I  how- 
ever hoped  the  best,  and  rejoiced  to  hear  such  weighty 
and  important  exhortation  dropping  from  her  daughter's 
lips.  I  felt  that  present  circumstances  rendered  it  far 
more  valuable  than  my  own  could  have  been. 

I  have  often,  since  that  time,  seen  the  wicked  and 
careless  much  affected,  while  sitting  by  the  dying  bed  of 
a  near  relative :  I  have  witnessed  their  temporary  ac- 
knowledgments of  sin,  and  heard  their  professions  of 
amendment.  But,  after  a  short  season,  all  has  passed 
away  like  the  morning  dew.  The  friend  has  been  buried 
out  of  sight.  The  world  and  its  cares,  the  flesh  and  its 
sins,  have  returned  with  new  temptations,  and  the  elo- 
quence of  iniquity  has  prevailed  over  the  voice  of  truth. 
"  The  dog  has  returned  to  his  vomit,  and  the  sow  to 
her  wallowing  in  the  mire." 

On  the  other  hand,  how  frequently  have  the  death- 
beds of  true  believers  been  blessed  to  the  eye-witnesses 
of  the  triumphs  of  grace  over  sin,  death,  and  hell  I  Often 
has  the  careless  bystander  received  the  first  saving 
impression  of  divine  truth,  whilst  the  dying  Christian 
has  experienced  and  testified  the  supports  of  love  and 
mercy,  in  the  trying  hour.  At  such  seasons,  faith  wields 
a  bright  and  burning  torch,  which  occasionally  softens 
the  hardest,  and  warms  the  coldest  heart.  The  expres- 
sions of  that  heavenly  consolation  and  devout  solicitude, 
which  the  Holy  Spirit  vouchsafes  to  some,  thus  become 
the  happy  means  of  grace  and  blessing  for  the  conver- 
sion and  edification  of  others. 

''He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear  what  the  Spirit 
saith  unto  the  churches  I " 

At  this  moment  the  house-door  opened,  and  a  younger 


THE    YOUNG     COTTAGER.  195 

cTiild,  a  brother  of  Jane's,  came  in.  The  mother  asked 
from  above  who  it  was :  the  boy  replied,  and,  without 
further  enquiry,  she  remained  in  the  chamber.  I  beck- 
oned to  the  lad  to  sit  down  quietly;  and  thus  it  still 
remained  unknown  that  I  was  below. 

"Mother,"  continued  jane,  '^that  is  my  brother,  and 
will  soon  be  your  only  remaining  child.  Do,  pray, 
encourage  him  to  follow  good  ways.     Send  him  to  Mr. 

,  and  he  will  be  kind  to  him,  as  he  has  been  to  me. 

He  is  a  wild  boy,  but  I  hope  he  will  be  brought  to  think 
about  his  soul  in  time.  Those  naughty  wicked  boys 
teach  him  to  swear  and  fight,  and  run  after  all  manner 
of  evil.     Lord  help  him  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come  I " 

I  made  a  sign  to  the  boy  to  listen  to  what  his  sister 
said  concerning  him.  He  seemed  to  hear  with  attention, 
and  a  tear  dropped  down  his  cheek. 

''  Aye,  Jenny,  it  is  to  be  hoped  he  will,  and  that  we 
all  shall  likewise." 

'^Mother,  then  you  must  flee  to  Christ.  Nothing  you 
can  do  will  save  you  without  that.  You  must  repent 
and  turn  from  sin  —  without  the  grace  of  God  you  cannot 
do  it;  but  seek,  and  you  shall  find  it. — Do,  for  your 
own  sake,  and  for  my  sake,  and  my  little  brother's  sake." 

The  woman  wept  and  sobbed  without  replying.  I 
now  thought  it  time  to  appear ;  went  to  the  bottom  of 
the  stairs,  and  said,  "  May  a  friend  come  up  ?  " 

''  Mercy  on  me  I"  said  the  mother,  "  there  is  Mr. ." 

''Come  in.  Sir,"  said  Jane;  "I  am  very  glad  you  are 
come  now.     Mother,  set  a  chair." 

The  woman  looked  confused.  Jane  smiled  as  I  entered, 
and  welcomed  me  as  usual. 

''I  hope  I  shall  be  forgiven,  both  by  mother  and 
daughter,  for  having  remained  so  long  below  stairs, 
during  the  conversation  which  has  just  taken  place.  I 
came  in  the  hope  of  finding  you  together,  as  I  have  had 
a  wish  for  some  time  past  to  speak  to  you,  Sarah,  on  the 


196  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E. 

same  subjects^  about  wliicb  I  am  bappj  to  say  your 
daughter  is  so  anxious.  You  have  long  neglected  these 
things,  and  I  wished  to  warn  you  of  the  danger  of  your 
state — but  Jenny  has  said  all  I  could  desire,  and  I  now 
solemnly  ask  you,  whether  you  are  not  much  affected  by 
your  poor  child's  faithful  conversation  ?  You  ought  to 
have  been  her  teacher  and  instructer  in  the  ways  of 
righteousness;  whereas  now  she  has  become  yours, 
Happy,  however,  will  it  be  for  you  if  you  are  wise,  and 
consider  your  latter  end,  and  the  things  which  belong  to 
your  peace,  before  they  are  hidden  from  your  eyes! 
Look  at  your  dying  child,  and  think  of  your  other  and 
only  remaining  one,  and  say  whether  this  sight  does  not 
call  aloud  upon  you  to  hear  and  fear." 

Jane's  eyes  were  filled  with  tears  whilst  I  spoke.  The 
woman  hung  her  head  down,  but  betrayed  some  emotions 
of  dislike  at  the  plain  dealing  used  towards  her. 

"  My  child  Jenny,"  said  I,  ^'how  are  you  to-day  ?  " 

*'  Sir,  I  have  been  talking  a  good  deal,  and  feel  rather 
faint  and  weary,  but  my  mind  has  been  very  easy  and 
happy  since  I  last  saw  you.  I  am  quite  willing  to  die, 
when  the  Lord  sees  fit.  I  have  no  wish  to  live,  except 
it  be  to  see  my  friends  in  a  better  way  before  I  depart. 
Sir,  I  used  to  be  afraid  to  speak  to  them ;  but  I  feel  to- 
day as  if  I  could  hold  my  peace  no  longer,  and  I  must 
tell  them  what  the  Lord  has  done  for  my  soul,  and  what 
I  feel  for  theirs." 

There  was  a  firmness,  I  may  say  a  dignity,  with  which 
this  was  uttered,  that  surprised  me.  The  character  of 
the  chiid  seemed  to  be  lost  in  that  of  the  Christian :  her 
natural  timidity  yielded  to  a  holy  assurance  of  manner, 
resulting  from  her  own  inward  consolations,  mingled 
with  spiritual  desire  for  her  mother's  welfare.  This 
produced  a  flush  upon  her  otherwise  pallid  countenance, 
which  in  no  small  degree  added  to  her  interesting  appear- 
ance.   The  Bible  lay  open  before  her  as  she  sat  up  in 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  197 

the  bed.  With  her  right  hand  she  enclosed  her  mother's. 
— "Mother,  this  book  yoio  cannot  read:  you  should 
therefore  go  constantly  to  church,  that  you  may  hear  it 
explained.  It  is  God's  book,  and  tells  us  the  way  to 
heaven ;  I  hope  you  will  learn  and  mind  it ;  with  God's 
blessing  it  may  save  your  soul.  Do  think  of  that, 
mother,  pray  do.  I  am  soon  going  to  die.  Give  this 
Bible  to  my  brother :  and  will  you  be  so  kind,  Sir,  to 
instruct  him  ?  Mother,  remember  what  I  say,  and  this 
gentleman  is  witness:  there  is  no  salvation  for  sinners 
like  you  and  me  but  in  the  blood  of  Christ ;  he  is  able  to 
save  to  the  uttermost ;  he  will  save  all  that  come  to  him ; 
he  waits  to  be  gracious ;  cast  yourself  upon  his  mercy. 
I  wish  — I  wish— I  — I— I—" 

She  was  quite  overcome,  and  sunk  away  in  a  kind  of 
fainting  fit. 

Her  mother  observed,  that  she  would  now  probably 
remain  insensible  for  some  time,  before  she  recovered. 

I  improved  this  interval  in  a  serious  address  to  the 
woman,  and  then  prepared  to  take  my  departure,  per- 
ceiving that  Jane  was  too  much  exhausted  for  further 
conversation  at  that  time. 

As  I  was  leaving  the  room,  the  child  said,  faintly, 
"  Come  again  soon.  Sir ;  my  time  is  very  short." 

I  returned  home  by  the  same  retired  road  which  I  had 
before  chosen.  I  silently  meditated  on  the  eminent 
proofs  of  piety  and  faith  which  were  just  afforded  me  in 
the  scene  I  had  witnessed. 

Surely,  I  thought,  this  is  an  extraordinary  child! 
What  cannot  grace  accomplish  ?  Is  it  possible  to  doubt, 
after  this,  lulio  is  the  alone  Author  and  Finisher  of  salva- 
tion ?  or  from  wJiom  cometh  every  good  and  perfect  gift  ? 
How  rich  and  free  is  the  mercy  of  Jehovah !  Hath  not 
he  ''  chosen  the  weak  things  of  the  world  to  confound 
the  things  which  are  mighty?  Let  no  flesh  glory  in  his 
presence :  but  he  that  glorieth,  let  him  glory  in  the  Lord." 

17* 


198  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGEE. 


PAKT  yi. 

The  trutli  and  excellence  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ 
appears  to  be  remarkably  established  by  the  union  of 
similarity  with  variety,  in  the  effect  which  it  produces 
on  the  hearts  and  lives  of  true  believers.  In  the  grand 
and  essential  features  of  Christian  experience,  the  whole 
household  of  God  possess  an  universal  sameness  of 
character,  a  family  likeness,  which  distinguishes  them 
from  all  the  world  besides :  yet,  in  numerous  particulars, 
there  also  exists  a  beautiful  variety. 

On  the  one  hand,  in  the  aged  and  the  young,  in  the 
wise  and  the  unlearned,  in  the  rich  and  the  poor;  in 
those  of  stronger  and  weaker  degrees  of  mental  capacity, 
in  more  sanguine  or  more  sedate  dispositions ;  and  in  a 
multitude  of  otherwise  varying  circumstances,  there  is  a 
striking  conformity  of  principles  and  feeling  to  Christ, 
and  to  each  other.  Like  the  flowers  of  the  field  and  the 
garden,  they  are  "  all  rooted  and  grounded "  in  the  soil 
of  the  same  earth ;  they  are  warmed  by  the  same  sun, 
refreshed  by  the  same  air,  and  watered  by  the  same 
dews.  They  e^ch  derive  nourishment,  growth,  and 
increase  from  the  same  life-giving  Source.  As  the  flower 
puts  forth  its  leaves  and  petals,  adorns  the  place  which 
it  inhabits  with  its  beauty,  and  possesses  an  internal 
system  of  qualities,  whereby  it  is  enabled  to  bring  forth 
its  seed  or  fruit,  in  the  appointed  season ;  so  does  the 
Christian. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  like  the  flowers  also,  some 
Christians  may  be  said  to  grow  on  the  mountain  tops, 
some  in  valleys,  some  in  the  waters,  and  others  in  dry 
ground.  Different  colours,  forms,  and  sizes  distinguish, 
them  from  each  other,  and  produce  a  diversity  of  charac- 
ter and  appearance,  which  affords  a  delightful  variety. 


THE    YOUNa    COTTAGER.  199 

both  for  tlie  purposes  of  use  and  beauty.  Yet  is  that 
variety  perfectly  consistent  with  their  essential -unity  of 
nature  in  the  vegetable  kingdom,  to  which  they  all 
equally  belong. 

In  another  particular  they  likewise  resemble.  They 
both  die  a  natural  death.  The  Lord  ever  preserves  "  a 
seed  to  serve  him,"  from  generation  to  generation ;  for, 
as  one  disappears,  another  springs  up  to  supply  his 
place.  But  '^  it  is  appointed  unto  all  men  once  to  die." 
— ''  Man  Cometh  forth  like  a  flower,  and  is  cut  down ; 
he  fleeth  as  a  shadow,  and  continueth  not."  —  "  All  flesh 
is  as  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of  man  as  the  flower  of  tho 
grass.  The  grass  withereth,  and  the  flower  thereof  falleth 
away." 

In  the  midst  of  such  diversity  of  Christian  characters 
there  is  much  to  love  and  admire.  I  have  selected  the 
case  of  little  Jane,  as  one  not  undeserving  of  notice. 

It  is  true,  she  was  only  a  child  —  a  very  poor  child — 
but  a  child  saved  by  divine  grace,  enlightened  with  the 
purest  knowledge,  and  adorned  with  unaffected  holiness ; 
—  she  was  a  child,  humble,  meek,  and  lowly.  She 
"found  grace  in  the  eyes  of  the  Lord,"  while  she  was  on 
earth ;  and,  I  doubt  not,  will  be  seen  on  his  right  hand 
at  the  last  day.  As  such,  there  is  preciousness  in  the 
character,  which  will  account  for  my  attempting  once 
more  to  write  concerning  her,  and  describe  her  last 
moments  before  she  went  to  her  final  rest. 

At  a  very  early  hour  on  the  morning  of  the  following 
day,  I  was  awoke  by  the  arrival  of  a  messenger,  bringing 
an  earnest  request  that  I  would  immediately  go  to  the 
child,  as  her  end  appeared  to  be  just  approaching. 

It  was  not  yet  day,  when  I  left  my  house  to  obey  the 
summons.  The  morning  star  shone  conspicuously  clear. 
The  moon  cast  a  mild  light  over  the  prospect,  but 
gradually  diminished  in  brightness,  as  the  eastern  sky 
became  enlightened.      The  birds  were  beginning  their 


200  THE     YOUNG     COTTAGE  K. 

song;  and  seemed  ready  to  ■welcome  the  sun's  approacli. 
The  dew  plentifidly  covered  the  field,  and  hung  sus- 
pended in  drops  from  the  trees  and  hedges.  A  few 
early  labourers  appeared  in  the  lanes,  travelling  towards 
the  scene  of  their  daily  occupations. 

All  besides  was  still  and  calm.  My  mind,  as  I  pro- 
ceeded, was  deeply  exercised  by  thoughts  concerning  the 
affecting  events  which  I  expected  soon  to  witness. 

The  rays  of  the'  morning  star  were  not  so  beautiful  in 
my  sight,  as  the  spiritual  lustre  of  this  young  Christian's 
character.  Her  "  night  was  far  spent ; "  the  morning  of 
a  "  better  day  was  at  hand."  The  sun  of  eternal  bless- 
edness was  ready  to  break  upon  her  soul  with  rising 
glory.  Like  the  moon,  which  I  saw  above  me,  this 
child's  exemplary  deportment  had  gently  cast  a  useful 
light  over  the  neighbourhood  where  she  dwelt.  Like 
this  moon,  she  had  for  a  season  been  permitted  to  shine 
amidst  the  surrounding  darkness:  and  her  rays  were 
also  reflected  from  a  luminary,  in  whose  native  splen- 
dour her  own  would  quickly  be  blended  and  lost. 

The  air  was  cool,  but  the  breezes  of  the  morning  were 
refreshing,  and  seemed  to  foretell  the  approach  of  a 
beautiful  day.  Being  accustomed,  in  my  walks,  to  look 
for  subjects  of  improving  thought  and  association,  I 
found  them  in  every  direction  around  me,  as  I  hastened 
onwards  to  the  house  where  Jane  lay,  waiting  for  a 
dismissal  from  her  earthly  dwelling. 

I  felt  that  the  twilight  gravity  of  nature  was,  at  that 
hour,  peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  circumstances  of  the 
case :  and  the  more  so,  because  that  twilight  was  signifi- 
cantly adorned  with  the  brilliant  sparklings  of  the  star 
on  one  hand,  and  the  clear  pale  lustre  of  the  waning 
moon  on  the  other. 

When  I  arrived  at  the  house,  I  found  no  one  below ; 
I  paused  a  few  minutes,  and  heard  the  girl's  voice  very 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  201 

faintly  saying,  "  Do  you  think  he  will  come  ?     I  should 
be  so  glad — so  very  glad  to  see  him  before  I  die." 

I  ascended  the  stairs — her  father,  mother,  and  brother, 
together  with  the  elderly  woman  before  spoken  of,  were 
in  the  chamber.  Jane's  countenance  bore  the  marks  of 
speedy  dissolution.  Yet,  although  death  was  manifest 
in  the  languid  features,  there  was  something  more  than 
ever  interesting  in  the  whole  of  her  external  aspect.  The 
moment  she  saw  me,  a  renewed  vigour  beamed  in  her 
eyes — grateful  affection  sparkled  in  her  dying  face. 

Although  she  had  spoken  just  before  I  entered,  yet 
for  some  time  afterwards  she  was  silent,  but  never  took 
her  eyes  off  me.  There  was  animation  in  her  look — 
there  was  more — something  like  a  foretaste  of  heaven 
seemed  to  be  felt,  and  gave  an  inexpressible  character  of 
spiritual  beauty,  even  in  death. 

At  length  she  said,  "This  is  very  kind.  Sir — I  am 
going  fast — I  was  afraid  I  should  never  see  you  again  in 
this  world." 

I  said,  "  My  child,  are  you  resigned  to  die." 

"  Quite." 

"  Where  is  your  hope  ?  " 

She  lifted  up  her  finger,  pointing  to  heaven,  and  then 
directed  the  same  downward  to  her  own  heart,  saying 
successively  as  she  did  so,  "  Christ  there,  and  Christ  Aere." 

These  words,  accompanied  by  the  action,  spoke  her 
meaning  more  solemnly  than  can  easily  be  conceived. 

A  momentary  spasm  took  place — Looking  towards 
her  weeping  mother,  she  said,  ''I  am  very  cold — but  it 
is  no  matter — it  will  soon  be  over " 

She  closed  her  eyes  for  about  a  minute,  and,  on  open 
ing  them  again,  said,  ''I  wish  Sir,  when  I  am  gone,  you 
would  tell  the  other  children  of  the  parish,  how  good  the 
Lord  has  been  to  me,  a  poor  sinner —tell  them,  that  they 
who  seek  him  early  will  find  him — tell  them,  that  the 
ways  of  sin  and  ignorance  are  the  ways  to  ruin  and  hell 


202  THE    YOUNG     COTTAGER. 

— and  pray  tell  them^  Sir,  from  me,  that  Christ  is  indeed 
the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life — he  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out  any  that  come.  —  Tell  them  that  I,  a  poor 
girl " 

She  was  quite  exhausted,  and  sunk  for  awhile  into  a 
torpid  state,  from  which,  however,  she  recovered  grad- 
ually, uttering  these  expressions:  ''Where  am  I? — I 
thought  I  was  going — Lord,  save  me." 

"  My  dear  child,  you  will  soon  be  for  ever  in  his  arms, 
who  is  now  guiding  you  by  his  rod  and  staff  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death." 

''I  believe  so,  indeed  I  do,"  said  she;  ''I  long  to  be 
with  him!  —  0  how  good,  how  great,  how  merciful  I  — 
Jesus,  save  me,  help  me  through  this  last  trial." 

She  then  gave  one  hand  to  her  father,  the  other  to 
her  mother,  and  said,  ''God  bless  you,  God  bless  you — 
seek  the  Lord — think  of  me,  when  I  am  gone — it  may 
be  for  your  good  —  remember  your  souls  —  0!  for 
Christ's  sake  remember  your  souls — then  all  may  be 
well — you  cannot  think  what  I  have  felt  for  both  of 
you — Lord,  pardon  and  save  my  dear  father  and  mother." 

She  then  took  hold  of  her  brother's  hand,  saying, 
"Thomas,  I  beg  of  you  to  leave  off  your  bad  ways — 
read  the  Bible — I  give  you  mine — I  have  found  it  a 
precious  book.  Do  you  not  remember  our  little  brother, 
who  died  some  years  since? — he  was  praying  to  the  last 
moment  of  his  life.  Learn  to  pray,  while  you  are  in 
health,  and  you  will  find  the  comfort  and  power  of  it 
when  you  come  to  die ;  but,  first  of  all,  pray  for  a  new 
heart — without  it  you  will  never  see  God  in  heaven  — 
your  present  ways  lead  to  misery  and  ruin — may  the 
Lord  turn  your  heart  to  love  and  follow  him  I " 

To  the  other  woman  she  said,  "  I  thank  you.  Dame 

K ,  for  all  your  kindness  since  I  have  been  ill — you 

have  been  a  Christian  friend  to  me,  and  I  hope  the  Lord 
will  remember  you  for  it,  according  to  his  rich  mercy :  — 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  203 

you  and  I  have  many  a  time  talked  together  about  death  ; 
and  though  I  am  the  youngest,  he  calls  me  first  to  pass 
through  it ;  but,  blessed  be  his  name,  I  am  not  terrified. 
I  once  thought  I  never  could  die  without  fear;  but 
indeed  I  feel  quite  happy,  now  it  is  come ;  and  so  will 
you,  if  you  trust  him  —  he  is  the  God  both  of  the  old 
and  the  young." 

"  Ah,  my  child ! "  said  the  woman,  "  I  wish  I  was  aa 
fit  to  die  as  you  are  ;  but  I  fear  that  will  never  be — my 
sins  have  been  many,  very  many." 

^'Christ's  blood  cleanseth  from  all  sin,"  said  the  child 

At  this  moment,  instead  of  growing  weaker,  through 
the  fatigue  of  so  much  speaking,  she  seemed  to  gather 
fresh  strength.  She  turned  to  me  with  a  look  of  sur- 
prising earnestness  and  animation,  saying, 

''You,  Sir,  have  been  my  best  friend  on  earth — you 
have  taught  me  the  way  to  heaven,  and  I  love  and  thank 
you  for  it — you  have  borne  with  my  weakness  and  my 
ignorance — you  have  spoken  to  me  of  the  love  of  Christ, 
and  he  has  made  me  to  feel  it  in  my  heart  —  I  shall  see 
him  face  to  face — he  will  never  leave  me  nor  forsake 
me — he  is  the  same,  and  changes  not.  Dear  Sir,  God 
bless  you." 

The  child  suddenly  rose  up,  with  an  unexpected  exer- 
tion, threw  her  livid,  wasted  arms  around  me,  as  I  sat 
on  the  bedside,  laid  her  head  on  my  shoulder,  and  said 
distinctly.  "God  bless  and  reward  you — give  thanks 
for  me  to  Him  —  my  soul  is  saved  —  Chiist  is  every  thing 
to  me.  Sir,  we  shall  meet  in  heaven,  shall  we  not  ?  —  O 
yes,  yes — then  all  will  be  peace — peace — peace — " 

She  sunk  back  on  the  bed,  and  spoke  no  more — fetched 
a  deep  sigh  —  smiled — and  died. 

At  this  affecting  moment  the  first  rays  of  the  morning 
sun  darted  into  the  room,  and  filled  my  imagination 
with  the  significant  emblem  of  "the  tender  mercy  of 
God,  whereby  the  day-spring  from  on  high  hath  visited 


204  THE, YOUNG    COTTAGER. 

US,  to  give  light  to  them  that  sit  in  darkness  and  in  the 
shadow  of  death,  to  guide  our  feet  into  the  way  of  peace." 

It  was  a  beam  of  light,  that  seemed  at  once  to  describe 
the  glorious  change  which  her  soul  had  now  already 
experienced ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  shed  the  promised 
consolations  of  hope  over  the  minds  of  those  who  wit- 
nessed her  departure. 

This  was  an  incident  obviously  arising  from  a  natural 
cause ;  but  one  which  irresistibly  connected  itself  with 
the  spiritual  circumstances  of  the  case. 

For  some  time  I  remained  silently  gazing  on  the 
breathless  corpse,  and  could  hardly  persuade  myself  that 
Jane  was  indeed  no  longer  there. 

As  I  returned  homeward,  I  found  it  difficult  to  repress 
the  strong  feelings  of  affection,  which  such  a  scene  had 
excited.  Neither  did  I  wish  it.  Eeligion,  reason,  and 
experience,  rather  bid  us  indulge,  in  due  place  and  season, 
those  tender  emotions,  which  keep  the  heart  alive  to  its 
most  valuable  sensibilities.  To  check  them  serves  but 
to  harden  the  mind,  and  close  the  avenues  which  lead  to 
the  sources  of  our  best  principles  of  action. 

Jesus  himself  wept  over  the  foreseen  sorrows  of  Jeru- 
salem. He  ivept  also  at  the  grave  of  his  friend  Lazarus. 
Such  an  example  consecrates  the  tear  of  affection,  while 
it  teaches  us,  ''  concerning  them  which  are  asleep,  not  to 
sorrow,  as  those  which  have  no  hope." 

I  soon  fell  into  meditation  on  the  mysterious  subject 
of  the  flight  of  a  soul  from  this  world  to  that  of 
departed  spirits. 

"  Swifter  than  an  arrow  from  the  bow  or  than  the  rays 
of  light  from  the  sun,  has  this  child's  spirit  hastened,  in 
obedience  to  its  summons  from  God,  to  appear  in  his 
immediate  presence.  How  solemn  a  truth  is  this  for 
universal  consideration  I  But,  '  washed  in  the  blood  of 
the  Lamb  that  was  slain,'  and  happily  made  partaker 
of  its  purifying  efficacy,  she  meets  her  welcome  at  the 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGE  E.  205 

throne  of  God.  She  has  nothing  to  fear  from  the  frowns 
of  divine  justice.  Sin,  death,  and  hell  are  all  vanquished 
through  the  power  of  Him  who  hath  made  her  more 
than  conqueror.  He  will  himself  present  her  to  his 
Father,  as  one  of  the  purchased  lambs  of  his  flock — as 
one  whom  the  Spirit  of  God  '  has  sealed  unto  the  day 
of  redemption.' 

"What  a  change  for  her!  from  that  poor  tattered 
chamber  to  the  regions  of  Paradise  I  from  a  bed  of  straw 
to  the  bosom  of  Abraham  I  from  poverty,  sickness,  and 
pain,  to  eternal  riches,  health,  and  joy !  from  the  condi- 
tion of  a  decayed,  weary  pilgrim  in  this  valley  of  tears, 
to  that  of  a  happy  traveller  safely  arrived  at  home,  in 
the  rest  that  remaineth  to  the  people  of  God ! 

"  I  have  lost  a  young  disciple,  endeared  to  me  by  a 
truly  parental  tie.  Yet  how  can  I  complain  of  that  as 
lost,  which  God  has  found  ?  Her  willing  and  welcome 
voice  no  longer  seeks  or  imparts  instruction  here.  But 
it  is  far  better  employed.  The  angels,  who  rejoiced  over 
her  when  her  soul  first  turned  to  God,  who  watched  the 
progress  of  her  short  pilgrimage,  and  who  have  now 
carried  her  triumphantly  to  the  heavenly  hills,  have 
already  taught  her  to  join 

'  In  holy  song,  their  own  immortal  strains. 

Why  then  should  I  mourn  ?  The  whole  prospect,  as  it 
concerns  her,  is  filled  with  joy  and  immortality.  '  Death 
is  swallowed  up  in  victory.' " 

As  I  looked  upon  the  dew-drops  which  rested  on  the 
grass  and  hung  from  the  branches  of  the  trees,  I  observed 
that  the  sun's  rays  first  filled  them  with  beautiful  and 
varied  colours ;  then  dried  them  up,  and  they  were  seen 
no  longer. 

Thus  it  was  with  myself.  The  tears  which  I  neither 
would  nor  could  restrain,  when  I  first  began  thus  to 
reflect  on  the  image  of  the  dying  chamber  of  little  Jane, 

18 


206  THE    YOUNG     COTTAGE  E. 

were  speedily  brightened  by  the  vivid  sunshine  of  hope 
and  confidence.  They  then  gradually  yielded  to  the 
influence  of  that  divine  principle  which  shall  finally 
wipe  the  tear  from  every  eye,  and  banish  all  sorrow  and 
sighing  for  evermore. 

On  the  fourth  day  from  thence,  Jane  was  buried.  I 
had  never  before  committed  a  parishioner  to  the  ground 
with  similar  affections.  The  attendants  were  not  many, 
but  I  was  glad  to  perceive  among  them  some  of  the 
children  who  had  been  accustomed  to  receive  my  weekly 
private  instruction  along  with  her. 

I  wished  that  the  scene  might  usefully  j.mpress  their 
young  hearts,  and  that  God  would  bless  it  to  their  edifi- 
cation. 

As  I  stood  at  the  head  of  the  grave,  during  the  service, 
I  connected  past  events,  which  had  occurred  in  the 
churchyard,  with  the  present.  In  this  spot  Jane  first 
learned  the  value  of  that  gospel  which  saved  her  soul. 
Not  many  yards  from  her  own  burial-place,  was  the 
epitaph  which  has  already  been  described  as  the  first 
means  of  affecting  her  mind  with  serious  and  solemn 
conviction.  It  seemed  to  stand  at  this  moment  as  a 
peculiar  witness  for  those  truths  which  its  lines  pro- 
claimed to  every  passing  reader.  Such  an  association 
of  objects  produced  a  powerful  effect  on  my  thoughts. 

The  evening  was  serene — nothing  occurred  to  inter- 
rupt the  quiet  solemnity  of  the  occasion. 

"  Peace "  was  the  last  word  little  Jane  uttered,  v/hile 
living ;  and  peace  seemed  to  be  inscribed  on  the  farewell 
scene  at  the  grave,  where  she  was  laid.  A  grateful 
remembrance  of  that  peace  revives  in  my  own  mind,  as 
I  write  these  memorials  of  it ;  and,  O I  may  that  peace 
which  passeth  all  understanding,  be  in  its  most  perfect 
exercise,  when  I  shall  meet  her  again  at  the  last  day. 

Attachment  to  the  spot  where  this  young  Christian 
lay,  induced  me  to  plant  a  yew-tree,  close  by  the  head 


THE    YOUNG    COTTAGER.  207 

of  her  grave,  adjoining  the  eastern  wall  of  the  church. 
I  designed  it  as  an  evergreen  monument  of  one  who  was 
dear  to  memory.  The  young  plant  appeared  healthy  for 
a  while,  and  promised  by  its  outward  vigour  long  to 
retain  its  station.  But  it  withered  soon  afterwards,  and, 
like  the  child  whose  grave  it  pointed  out  to  notice,  early 
faded  away  and  died. 

The  yew-tree  proved  a  frail  and  short-lived  monument. 
But  a  more  lasting  one  dwells  in  my  own  heart.  And 
perhaps  this  narrative  may  be  permitted  to  transmit  her 
memory  to  other  generations,  when  the  hand  and  heart 
of  the  writer  shall  be  cold  in  the  dust. 

Perchance  some,  into  whose  hands  these  pages  may 
fall,  will  be  led  to  cultivate  their  spiritual  young  plants 
with  increased  hope  of  success,  in  so  arduous  an  endea- 
vour. May  the  tender  blossoms  reward  their  care,  and 
bring  forth  early  and  acceptable  fruit ! 

Some,  who  have  perhaps  been  accustomed  to  under- 
value the  character  of  very  youthful  religion,  may  hereby 
see  that  the  Lord  of  grace  and  glory  is  not  limited  in  tho 
exercise  of  his  power  by  age  or  circumstance.  It  some- 
times appears  in  the  displays  of  God's  love  to  sinners, 
as  it  does  in  the  manifestation  of  his  works  in  the  hea- 
vens, that  the  least  of  the  planets  moves  in  the  nearest 
course  to  the  sun ;  and  there  enjoys  the  most  powerful 
influence  of  his  light,  heat,  and  attraction. 

The  story  of  this  Young  Cottager  involves  a  clear 
evidence  of  the  freeness  of  the  operations  of  divine  grace 
on  the  heart  of  man;  of  the  inseparable  connexion 
between  true  faith  and  holiness  of  disposition ;  and  of  the 
simplicity  of  character  which  a  real  love  of  Christ  trans- 
fuses into  the  soul. 

How  many  of  the  household  of  faith,  in  every  age, 

"  Alike  unknown  to  fortune  and  to  fame," 

have  journeyed  and  are  now  travelling  to  their  ''  city  of 


208  THE    YOUNG    COTTAGEE. 

habitation,"  throngli  the  paths  of  modest  obscurity  and 
almost  unheeded  piety !  It  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
employments  of  the  Christian  Minister  to  search  out 
these  spiritual  lilies  of  the  valley,  whose  beauty  and 
fragrance  are  nearly  concealed  in  their  shady  retreats. 
To  rear  the  flower,  to  assist  in  unfolding  its  excellencies, 
and  bring  forth  its  fruit  in  due  season,  is  a  work  that 
delightfully  recompenses  the  toil  of  the  cultivator. 

While  he  is  occupied  in  this  grateful  task  of  labouring 
in  his  heavenly  Master's  garden,  some  blight,  some 
tempest  may  chance  to  take  away  a  favourite  young 
blossom,  in  a  premature  stage  of  its  growth. 

If  such  a  case  should  befall  him,  he  will  then,  perhaps, 
as  I  have  often  done,  when  standing  in  pensive  recollec- 
tion at  little  Jane's  grave,  make  an  application  of  these 
lines,  which  are  inscribed  on  a  grave-stone  erected  in  the 
same  churchyard,  and  say, 

"  This  lovely  bud,  so  young  and  fair, 
Call'd  hence  by  early  doom, 
Just  came  to  show  how  sweet  a  flower 
In  Paradise  would  bloom." 


•  Of  THU^ 


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